


Vestiges

by dahdeemohn



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Demons, Ensemble Cast, F/F, F/M, Gods, Kidnapping, M/M, Medical Procedures, Multi, Near Death Experiences, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slow Build, There Are No Atheists In Foxholes, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-08
Updated: 2018-07-10
Packaged: 2018-10-01 04:18:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 56,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10180517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dahdeemohn/pseuds/dahdeemohn
Summary: Many years ago, stars fell from the sky and The Cataclysm changed everything, shifting the balance of light and shadow itself.One being only strives to protect what has remained in the aftermath, while another seeks to heal the wounds of the past in order to ensure that there may be a future.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prologue

Another violent coughing fit rattled Finn’s bones and drew concerned glances from his parents that were quickly exchanged, dishware clattering against the table as it was hastily set down. As his vision started to blur, he felt himself pulled into Mother’s embrace. The rim of a wooden cup touched his lips, and from it the pervasive steam of nettle tea wafted into his nostrils.

“Easy now. Have a sip.” She gently attempted to coax him to drink. Dutifully Finn obliged, and despite having somewhat gotten used to the bitter liquid over time, he still grimaced after swallowing. It seemed to be the only drink he’d consumed since the fevers had started a season ago, and the taste constantly lingered in his mouth.

Once the coughing had finally settled down, the remainder of the evening was uneventful. Finn was tucked into bed while the dogs were fed the table scraps by his sister, the livestock moved to their stalls, and the candles lit as the sun began to set. From where he lay, Finn could see Mother take her seat near the dying fire and begin mending a pair of trousers, while Father handed over a block of wood and small knife to his sister’s outstretched hands. His voice rumbled out a cautionary “Y’cut away from yerself, Rebecca”. She nodded as way of acknowledgement and slid the blade down the surface, sending shavings to the floor, sometimes stopping only to pull a stray red curl of hair from out of her face.

“Clean y’r mess after,” Mother stated without looking up, her hand rising and falling with each stitch, the steady rhythm of it causing Finn’s eyelids to grow heavy. He’d hoped to stay awake longer, to watch Rebecca so that when he’d finally be well enough to learn to carve like Father, he’d be able to draw on observatory experience. _We were gonna to learn t’gether_ was the final conscious thought before sleep overcame him.

Abstract swirls of pale blue light was all that Finn could recall from his dreams before being awoken by Rebecca shaking him, panicked whispers of his name repeated until his eyes finally opened. He blinked a few times as she hurriedly explained, “You were thrashing about and you’re soaked in sweat!”. However, he couldn’t focus on her words, his gaze fixed past the open shutters across the room which had been left open to let the breeze in on that uncharacteristically hot night. “Hey, are y’listening to me?” she’d asked.

“Not really,” he responded honestly with a weak grin, and she shoved at him. “Hey now!”

“It’s not funny!” she sniffed, her face now hidden in their shared blanket. Without a word he reached over and took her hand, squeezing it in his own. It took little time and even less effort to fall asleep again, but his sister’s stifled sobs could be heard even as he drifted away, and he lacked the energy to comfort her any further.

By the cockerel’s morning crow, all signs of ailments seemed to vanish. Porridge and fruit were set on the table, which Finn hastily gobbled up while answering questions in between spoonfuls about his health from both parents. Rebecca remained with her face down and quiet all throughout breakfast, a deviation from her usual talkative self. It wasn’t until Father announced that she’d be helping him in the workshop for the day that her mood shifted to something far more animated, and in turn Finn grew somber; again, he’d be left behind to help his mother with the livestock and homestead chores. He flinched when again he was told that it was just until he’d fully recovered and to only do as much as he could handle for now. Once it was just him and Mother, he looked at her with pleading eyes, and she softly tutted while kissing his forehead.

“Housework’s much tougher than faffing around with nails and wood, y’know,” She tried her best to sound reassuring, but still he frowned. “More rewarding, too.”

“But I want t’make things, too!” exclaimed Finn. “An’ I’m feeling well! No coughing at all, and-” 

“I know,” Mother responded, her voice as firm as it was sympathetic, and Finn sighed in resignation. Again he felt small and defeated by whatever this dreadful thing was that lived inside him and wouldn’t leave no matter how many remedies the wise-women of their village had recommended. Without putting up any further protest, he fetched the basket by the doorway used for collecting the eggs, and head towards the stables to get started on work for the day. 

Outside, light cloud coverage caused the valley to be dappled in shadows, and the dense fog that had not yet lifted made it difficult to see more than a few yards ahead. Finn spotted two sets of footprints in the mud, the larger set from Father’s boots and the smaller from Rebecca. He followed them for a few paces, since every morning Father threw the barn doors open for the livestock to leave their enclosure and graze, and judging by the closeby bleats of a few goats that had already made their way atop their grass-covered roof, today was no exception.

He marched past a few small collections of spotted hens and roosters that foraged intently for beetles, one of which was lucky enough to stumble upon a toad and squawked wildly at its prize. When he’d finally reached the barn, he kept an eye on several hens lingered about the dirt floor with flocks of yellow and tan chicks flanked all about them, cautious with each step taken to not accidentally catch one underfoot. At the nesting boxes, he was thankful that there were currently no broody hens in the flock, and wasted no time in gathering up the small white eggs hidden in the straw. Among the clutches were a few broken shells, the slimy trails of yolk the tell-tale signs of an egg eater in the flock, and he made note to relay these findings. Wiping hands on his trousers, he finished collecting and head back to the house, meeting Mother at the door. In each hand she held the handles of large wooden pails.

“Darling, would y’like to come along t’fetch some water?” she smiled brightly, and Finn nodded. “Go run those inside now.”

Hurriedly, he rushed past her and through the doorway, setting the basket on the table and returned outdoors to eagerly accept a pail. Together they walked on the path that led past the village and to the river. Along the way Finn reported on the most unfortunate toad and the evidence of the egg-eater, which they’d have to sort out when they returned. 

At the banks of the river, other villagers were gathered there as well to start the day’s chores, and Mother idylly chatted with a few of their neighbors while Finn made quick work of filling up his pail. There were children his own age also present, running around and chasing one another, splashing at the shallow edges of the water. At one point he would have thought nothing of joining them; however, they maintained some distance and eyed him warily, so he exchanged the courtesy and kept close to Mother’s skirt after he’d gotten the water. A few adults asked about how he’d fared recently, and when he looked up to answer, realization dawned the questions weren’t actually directed _at_ him. Mother had answered them, her voice pleasant enough yet her hand on Finn’s shoulder the entire time, reassuring him just as he began to fidget uncomfortably. Before anymore curious probing, she excused the both of them, saying that they really needed to return home now to get the day started. She turned to fill her own pail and simultaneously guided Finn away from the group. 

Their trip back was quiet, and Finn kept his eyes fixed just over the horizon, at the mountains and ice-capped volcanoes that loomed in the distance too far away, always out of reach. He looked up at the lush green cliffs that surrounded their valley and the forests at their bases, thick with conifer trees which according to Father no light pierced through the canopy of branches, the perfect homes for spirits and trolls. The more he stared, the more that it seemed the shadows between the trees took on vaguely humanoid forms, and he could have sworn he’d seen small specks of pale light not unlike sets of eyes. 

Again, the evening was mostly uneventful: they dined on barley bread baked earlier in the week and a fish stew, and Finn’s coughing fits were kept to a minimum. With Father’s permission, Rebecca showed off carving techniques she’d learned at the workshop earlier that day, and together all three sat as Finn finally began to whittle away at his own block of wood. The sun set, as it always did, the candles were extinguished shortly after, and it was off to bed for the family.

When Finn’s eyes opened, it was still pitch black. A chill rushed over him and he wondered if he was still asleep, but his feet felt too wet and cold to possible be imagining things. He knew he stood vertical and turned his head to the left then to the right to gain his bearings, but vision was still bleary. Taking a glance upward had him staring directly at the moon, its light nearly blinding. Instinctively, he reached a hand up to shield his eyes, but withdrew just as quickly and felt himself almost paralyzed in shock as he stared down at it; the tips of his fingers and the veins that ran through his hand were illuminated by a faint blue glow.

A strong breeze pushed at him, enough to shake the boy from his trance, and he looked up and around again to try to figure out where he was and how he could get home. From behind, he could hear water running, and ahead in the distance were the cliffs that encapsulated the valley, and many, MANY trees, their branches swaying in the wind. This was the closest he’d ever been to the forest’s edge, and although he’d been told many times to stay away, he could not stop from staring into it. The pale specks of light he’d seen earlier, the same color that pulsated just under the skin of his hands, appeared again; first one and then more. So many more. Soon, the forest was lit up like the stars in the night sky, twinkling and fading in and out.

And then, just as soon as they had appeared, everything was plunged into total darkness.

“Son?” Came Father’s voice, and everything was light and familiar again. Sunbeams shone through the open shutters of the windows, and Finn felt the solid weight of the heavy wool blanket over his body and the bed below him. Quickly he pulled his hand out from under the covers and studied them, but they were normal. “Finn?”

“I’m awake!” Finn exclaimed, whether or not it was in response to Father or confirmation for himself he couldn’t say for certain. For a few moments, Father’s face was like stone in its seriousness, but then eased into something softer and he nodded. 

The morning was quiet, the usual questions about Finn’s health were asked and he answered in earnest while Mother and Father exchanged glances; he left out the strange dream he’d had, not wanting to worry them any further. Rebecca scowled when she was told she was to stay home with Mother and Finn to help out their cousins to harvest the squash and potatoes, but instead rather than protest further she grabbed the egg basket and stomped off towards the barn. Loud hollering could be heard from outside, the tell-tale sign that the cousins had arrived, and Finn was sent out to meet them so that they could begin their work.

However, by when the midday sun was fixed at its highest point, it became impossible for Finn to keep up with the pace of the others; his lungs constricted as chills coursed through his veins, nearly knocking him to his knees, while his cheeks and the bridge of his nose burned as though they’d been scorched. Now of no use to gather vegetables, he was sent back into the house to assist there. Furiously he blinked back tears that stung the corner of his eyes and threatened to spill while now-too-familiar jeers were exchanged behind his back. At one point, everyone had the courtesy to whisper, unlike now where they openly asked questions, practically shouting them.

“ _Is he still **still** sick?_ ”

“ _Why d’they keep sending him out here with us? S’not much he c’n do._ ”

“ _Can **we** catch it?_ ”

“ _They say we’re fine t’be near ‘im, but he can’t have all that much longer, can he? Not like that._ ”

Once Finn reached the house, he slammed the wooden door shut behind him and, clasping both hands over his mouth, slid down to the floor.

“Finn?” came Mother’s voice from over by the hearth, and hastily he wiped his eyes with the back of his hands. She came into view and crouched down in front of him to meet his eye level, her fingers tracing the hair just at his temple and tucked stray strands behind his ear. “Love, what’s th’matter?”

“I’m not going t’get better, am I?” Finn could feel his lower lip tremble uncontrollably. 

“Oh my love, no-” She moved to pull him into her arms, and he fell against her bosom with no resistance. “No, Finn, you’ll get well.” She cradled the back of his head As he sniffed. “It’s not the first time this has happened. The crones said it was a far more common at a time, and t’was a blessing after all was done.”

“It was?” Finn couldn’t help but be incredulous, and his mother hugged him tighter.

“That’s what they all seem to agree upon.” With her thumb, she brushed away the tears that had fallen onto his cheeks and continued to hold him. However, the extra pressure around the ribcage and midsection caused his breathing to shorten, and he started to feel dizzy again, his body seizing up in her in her arms. "Heavens, Finn! Son!" Mother exclaimed, but her words were so far as his vision darkened. Off in the distance he could hear Rebecca's voice chime in, her vitriol towards something that sounded suspiciously like their cousin Sheamus' name, followed by a distorted gasp and then nothing.

In the nothing, Finn heard his name in hushed whispers from unrecognizable voices, and yet felt familiar; at first one at a time, slow and steady like a heartbeat, and then together, like a gentle choir.

"We _need_ a physician." Mother's strained voice suddenly pierced through, silencing everything else. “A real one!” 

"The council said this would happen. He just needs time." Father responded, his rumbling voice low and even.

"I know what th’crones said, but you didn't see it! You weren't there as he shook, as his eyes disappeared to the back of his head!" Her voice broke. "Blood came out his mouth. I thought he was dead, I did! Our son needs to be seen. Soon. What if this happens in the fields and no one's around?"

There was an uneasy silence, and Finn's head began to pound, strong enough that his skull may split in two. A ticklish sensation in his throat prompted him to cough, and he could practically feel eyes on him. A hand was placed to the side of his face and on his forehead, then replaced by a wet cloth that was laid across it.

“Son?” came Father’s voice from nearby. “How’re y’feeling?”

Finn hesitated, uncertain if he should be honest. “Sore.” Another cough. How many times had he done that now? “It’s like ’m on fire.”

There was more silence, and a strong hand on his shoulder. “Y’re very strong, my boy. Very brave.”

He nodded, and yet he couldn’t tell Father about how scared he was, how fear lingered in his chest like tree sap, sticky and seeping into every cavity; how with every emerging ailment, every cough, every shiver, it spread further and further, and he was certain he’d be entombed in due time. The familiar weight of Rebecca settled next to him in the bed, and she took his hand. For a short while it was enough to keep him from shaking.

Not a single dream manifested that night: no voices or forests, no moon hanging high above, no pale light. The only thing that Finn could report at breakfast was a headache, and he put up no argument when he was told to stay in today. At high noon, an aunt stopped by to drop off goat’s milk and candied chestnuts in exchange for eggs. She said that she’d heard from her own brood that Finn hadn’t joined them outside, and it was not long before she and Mother spoke in hushed tones. Among their gossip and chatter, Finn had definitely overheard something about a particular place being only half of a morning’s ride away, provided the weather was fair. A few recognizable names were exchanged shortly after, particularly Sheamus’ and Wade’s, followed by a tearful “I couldn’t ask y’to do that!”

“Don’t be daft! Y’know my boys, those two itch for the chance to shirk off work. If my bull-headed brother won’t take action, we can,” came the response, determination in the tone and met with a hum of consideration. 

The scent of broth wafted in the room while sounds of knives chopping vegetables against wood further obscured any other sounds, and Finn resigned for trying to get more rest. In and out of sleep he continued to fade, and during one brief period of consciousness he noticed a few candied chestnuts set down near where his head rest.

“Thank you, Auntie,” Finn weakly called out as he placed one on his tongue and savored the crystallized honey, smiling at her as she came into view.

“You’re very welcome, dear.” She smiled back, then drew closer and kneeled by his bed, brushing aside a few strands of hair on his forehead. Her mouth close to his ear, she said, “We’re going t’get you better. Y’know that, right?” 

Finn responded yes, he knew, and this answer always seemed satisfactory enough; but in truth he hadn’t much confidence. All he’d heard for the past season was that this would pass shortly and that it wouldn’t be so terrible, that he’d feel better soon and life would return to what it was before he fell ill. But he’d seen the looks between Mother and Father and Rebecca, the looks from the other villagers, and now he’d seen things that surely couldn’t be real but certainly felt it. Still, everyone repeated the same sentiments: this would pass.

Loud commotion from a short distance off got the attention of everyone inside, and Auntie stepped out to investigate. When she returned, Sheamus and Wade were in tow, both so tall that they had to duck under the doorway as they walked in, and Rebecca trailed close behind. The pair were initially impatient to take their leave, but were immediately shushed. A plan was laid out before them: at sunrise, if the weather was fair and gods willing, they’d each take a horse from the family’s stables, as well as a satchel of supplies and foodstuffs, and together they’d head south. Finn couldn’t make out the rest of the details, his head aching to the point that it hurt to keep his eyes open, but it sounded as though his cousins were in agreement that they’d fulfill the request made of them.

And come dawn, just after Father stepped out to open the doors to the barn. Rebecca had followed him out, and -as if on cue- she started to wail loudly. Mother wrung her hands as she also went out, then returned with the red-headed child in her arms, softly murmuring what sounded like a “well done”. Auntie stopped by some time later, after Father was gone to his workshop, and reported on the hoofprints she’d spotted in the mud and how the lads must have been successful. “Better not faff around with that map and compass, though,” she grimaced. “Their grandfather’d be rolling in his grave if something were t’happen t’his tools.”

Time crawled forward. Auntie stayed to help bake bread and ensure there’d be enough food to feed the guest, should the pair be successful in finding someone that could assist them. 

“We’ll have the children sleep in our bed,” Mother stated as they discussed how’d they go about housing an extra body. “Although I’m sure Rebecca will try to sleep in the damn barn again.” Auntie laughed at that, and Mother continued with “She’d live there if we let her.”

Still, despite the laughter and jokes, the air itself felt heavy, as though everyone’s collective discomfort and uncertainty was made tangible and caused it to grow thicker with each passing moment. Eventually the room simply collapsed into silence, and from over on the bed, Finn could see them seated at the table, hardly daring to glance up at one another. He closed his eyes as his temple started to throb again and vision grew blurry at the corners. Swirls of light again manifested, but instead of gracefully floating they seemed to almost buzz and thrash about violently; sometimes they collided into one another and caused a frightful explosion, the resulting sparks scattering and seeming dangerously close to igniting in the darkness. The turbulence further intensified, the light forming a vortex that spiraled chaotically into nothingness, and it felt as though it’d tear through the very space that contained it. 

Finn’s eyes shot open, his body drenched in a cold sweat as he struggled to catch his breath. There were bodies crowded around him, but he could hardly make out the faces and found it so hard to focus on any distinct features. As he gulped at the air, something quickly pressed into his mouth, against his tongue, then pulled at it. Before he could struggle against the intrusion, several hands were on his shoulders, holding him in place and distorted murmurs that sounded as though they could be familiar. His tongue was released and head was roughly tilted upwards, and the light and warmth of the sun crossed over his face; as he tried to shut his eyes to avoid the glare, one was forcefully held open, and then the other, and there were more murmurs while he squirmed fruitlessly.

“Pale. Awfully pale,” came the voice of a man most unfamiliar, his accent one that Finn had never heard. Fingers touched his wrist for a few moments, then moved away, only to be pressed firmly against his chest. “How long has the boy-”

“Finn.” Mother’s voice was clear, her tone defensive and cloaked Finn with its resolve.

“How long has **Finn** been exhibiting these symptoms?” The man was equally defensive.

Mother explained everything that had transpired so far, that sometime after winter’s chill had finally thawed, the weakness and fevers settled into Finn’s body, and how no matter what remedies they’d been recommended and utilized, nothing could be rid of it. The man simply hummed along in response, finally withdrawing his hand to stroke his short beard thoughtfully, and Finn rubbed at the spots where there had been unwelcome contact. There were more questions, about whether or not Finn had lost any weight or if there were changes in his personality, and some of which seemed to make no sense: about how the crops and weather fared this season, if Wade of Sheamus had seen anything odd in the fields recently. Finn’s vision began to clear, and he intently observed the man scratch at the page of a leather bound journal with a quill while everyone took turns answering his questions. Finally, he nodded, then announced, “I’d like to run a few tests.”

“Of course, Jamie” replied Mother, although there was a hint of uncertainty that laced her words. From over the edge of the bed, Jamie reached down and pulled up a small wooden trunk held shut with metal clasps, which he set down past Finn’s feet. The clasps and lid were lifted, and from it wafted the scent of various dried herbs and musky oils. From what Finn could see, contained within it were small tools, candles, vials and sachets, all of which were adorned with strange round symbols. They all reminded him of the markings he’d see in the village that were carved into doorways and stone walls, and yet were nothing alike; the markings he was familiar with seemed alive with their angular marks, and he’d been told they were beacons of good tidings, while these circular sigils were cold and alien, too perfectly made and removed from the hands of the life.

A single candle was retrieved and lit, and a few roots were pulled from a sachet and handed to Mother with the instruction to boil them into a tea. For the rest of the afternoon Finn was subjected to odd rituals while the others looked on. Oil was smeared onto his forehead, and herbs and salt, and even metal coins pressed to his palms, and it seemed as though Jamie sought a reaction that did not appear to manifest; still, he persisted, pressing a finger into freckles and moles, peeking into nostrils and ear canals, glancing back at the flame of the candle, looking for _something_. Every once in awhile he’d pause to write something down in his journal, then flip through the worn pages of a small manuscript that he kept closeby. 

Mother approached with a wooden cup with curls of steam that rose from the top of it, and from it a scent far more foul than brewed nettles that Finn became accustomed to. It was handed over to Jamie, and he blew on it and held it under Finn’s nose. She cleared her throat and asked, “What is the purpose of all of this?”

The question was met with silence as the cup was taken and held under Finn’s nose, and he attempted to recoil but was held in place. Jamie’s hand grabbed ahold of his lower jaw and pried it loose, and before he could react further the tea was poured into his mouth and ran down his throat, the water and its contents scalding every point of contact. A gurgled scream made its way out of Finn and into the room, and instinctively he thrashed about, somehow managing to push Jamie away from him. 

While Finn clutched at his chest and breathed heavily, occasionally coughing and sputtering as the water made its way out of his system and dribbled out the corner of his mouth, he kept his gaze sharp like steel and focused at Jamie. With a pained expression Jamie briefly nursed his arm; when he removed his hand from off it, blood could be seen on his palm, and the spot that he’d held onto looked as though a dog had mauled it. He gave a dry laugh, maintained the eye contact with Finn, and in that strange drawl he finally responded, “Ma’am, your boy's _awfully_ ill.” 

There were murmurs, some from present family members as they talked among themselves, but some were disembodied and unfamiliar. Finn looked down at his own hands, struck by disbelief that there was blood present under the ridges of his fingernails, and as he stared hard at them the dull blue glow from his dreams seemed to return, tracing the veins in his wrist and lightly pulsing just under the skin. All eyes turned to him, full of concern and fear and unspoken accusations, and an icy panic bubbled within his core. He wanted to speak, but words refused to pass his lips, abandoning him when he needed them most. Nerves ran hot and cold, and it was impossible to process any part of this situation with a clear mind, not when every fiber of his being felt as though they occupied a knife’s edge from the danger that he could not hope to understand.

Jamie stood and Mother approached him with a bowl of water and strips of worn cloth, and just as he’d started to wash the wound with the supplies, Finn took the opportunity to slink away from the bedside. Once he was up he remained still, observed that all attention in the room was now on the bloodied arm, and silently he moved towards the door. He lay his hands on the door’s solid wooden surface, knowing well the risk that they’d all be alerted to his actions when it opened, but the urgency of this threat was unbearable. It was pushed and he rushed out, not daring to look back behind him and hardly hearing the commotion from inside as the sound of blood rushing drowned out everything else.

Finn ran as fast as his legs could carry him, past the barn and towards the river, uncertain of his ultimate destination but not dwelling upon it, either. Mid-sprint, his bare foot caught itself on a rock the jutted out of the earth and he tumbled forward, collapsing unceremoniously to the dirt and sending now uprooted blades of grass in every direction. Before he was able to collect himself and get back up, the sun above was eclipsed by Father, his brow furrowed as he stared down. Prickling could be felt at the corner of Finn’s eyes while his breathing elevated and grew erratic, but not a single tear fell when he was scooped up from off of the ground and into Father’s arms. They turned and faced towards home, but Father’s heavy steps paused when the shutters of a window were thrown wide open; from its sill, a dove launched itself and flew off into the horizon, towards the sinking sun.

“Son, what happened?” Father asked, his eyes darting from side to side while the rest of him remained still. Finn shakily recounted details about Jamie, what had happened in the house, and why he ran.

“Am I in trouble?” Finn finally asked when Father did not immediately respond.

“Of course not,” reassured Father, yet something was still unsettling. Again they moved forward, crossing the threshold of the doorway, and Finn felt himself held tighter as all eyes in the room faced the pair. Mother and Auntie approached, looking as though they had something to express, but nothing was said. Father’s gaze was fixed on square on Jamie, who held a small wooden cage between his hands, his arm now heavily bandaged. Jamie returned the look he received, defiant at first but soon shrinking in demeanor, obvious realization on his face that he was outnumbered. With a gentle “down you go, now”, Finn was set upon the ground. Not a single other word was uttered, and Father pulled a chair out from the table, facing it towards Jamie and gesturing that he have a seat. Meanwhile, Mother made quick work of gathering everyone else and ushering them all out.

“We ought to stay,” Auntie hissed once they were all outside. “ **You** ought to stay. I’ll take the children, they’ll stay with us tonight.”

“Right.” Mother nodded, then the two quickly embraced. She dropped to her knees after and took turns with pressing kisses to the foreheads of both children, and tightly she clutched to Finn. “I love you, my darling. You are so very good,” she whispered into his ear, and within nearly the same breath she had disappeared back into the house while he and Rebecca were led away.

Supper was served late, dusk’s bruised hues starting to settle. Their cousins’ typical roughhousing kept under a close watch by Uncle as he presented a smoked fish as their meal, caught earlier in the day and sizeable enough to feed everyone present. As Finn finished his last morsel of bread, he worried about what Jamie could be telling Mother and Father, and continued to worry as he was tucked in with the other children. He tried to ignore the occasional kicks to his shins or when the blanket would be wrenched away suddenly in one direction or another. Eventually everyone had settled down, limbs tangled atop one another, and the room was filled with a choir of snores; Finn, however, did not yet join them, torn between staying put as he was told to do or taking his chances with escape yet again, only to be overcome by exhaustion and sleep before a decision could at last be reached.

And though Finn slept, it was entirely restless. Those lights that’d become so familiar begun to take form of faces, hollow and ghastly and moaned horribly as they whirred in agitation, causing him to awaken several times out of fright. His heart raced and he choked on the air itself, only to get an elbow to the ribs and sleepily muttered curse words in response, and morning could not come soon enough for the boy.

At sunrise, Father came to collect Finn and Rebecca. Along the way back home he explained that Jamie’s assistant would be by sometime the next morning with a delivery of medication that would be more suitable for Finn’s ailments, but nothing further was stated and his jaw was stiff as he curtly responded to Rebecca’s inquiries. The pair was dropped off in the kitchen with Mother and Jamie, but Father stuck nearby, declaring that repairs had to made to the stables after winter’s damage. Overall, the day quietly dragged on and was uneventful at most. Jamie had asked a few questions and even offered assistance with chores, but he went mostly ignored.

Come time to sleep, Jamie offered to stay in the barn since the evening was balmy and there was little room in the house for the entire family and a guest. Mother and Father found the suggestion agreeable, handing him a wool blanket and a lantern with a worn candlestick housed in it. While being tucked in, Finn informed Mother that he was certain that he was getting better and hadn’t coughed once the entire day. He wondered if she could see through the lie, but she smiled warmly at him and agreed, saying that he was probably right and soon this would all be behind him; that come summer he’d be able to help out like he used to, to run and play with the others, and soon he’d learn to ride and hunt, that he’d be able to fish again as well. It was as though her voice and words were a lullaby that helped him gently drift off. For the first time he allowed himself a sliver of optimism was felt since the fevers started, and it was enough to lift some of the crushing weight that Finn carried on his small shoulders.

In his dreams, there was no darkness, only the pale blue light that engulfed everything, and Finn could feel himself falling, completely weightless. No fevers, no chills, no headaches.

And in a single instance, darkness seeped back in, along with it the familiar pains and chills that throbbed mercilessly.

Finn struggled to breathe, but as he opened his mouth he realized a hand was clasped tight over it, and desperately he tried to peer through the dark and focus who it belonged to. Another hand grasped at his arm and roughly dragged him up. Before he could register what was going on and react, a mouth was at his ear and, in a now familiar accent, Jamie whispered, “If you make a single noise, I’ll slit _her_ throat. Understand?”

Hurriedly Finn nodded in response, his eyes darting towards the direction of Rebecca next to him to try to see if she was untouched, but he was wrenched out of bed before his vision had fully adjusted, and was silently led outside. The grip on his arm further tightened, fingers and fingernails pressed so hard through the thin nightshirt and into the skin that they felt as though they might break it, and he was rushed past the barn where a bald man in dark clothing awaited with a horse and a carriage.

“Joey, open it up. Hurry,” Jamie hissed out, and the other man wasted no time in moving towards the back of the wagon, unlatching and throwing the door wide open, then climbed into it. From under both arms Finn was hoisted up and handed over. “Help me get this little monster in there, my arm’s all messed up. An’ make sure you tie its hands.”

Silently Joey worked, placing Finn so that he was seated on a bench fixed to the walls of the carriage, and a long cord of rope was weaved between and around his wrists, then knotted tightly in the middle. From outside, Jamie could be heard loudly muttering, something about heathens and monsters, and how they had to hurry out of the village as soon as possible. After a quick tug to make sure the rope was secure, Joey turned around and jumped out of the back of the carriage, shutting the door behind him. Finn pulled at the restraints to see if they’d budge at all but ultimately succumbing to shock and began to withdraw into himself, his breathing coming in shuddery bursts while panic gripped at his core. There was a snapping noise, followed by motion as the entire body of the carriage shook and the sound of hooves pounding against the earth echoed loudly in the hollow wooden space he was imprisoned. 

Until that moment, Finn had not known anything like this in his life, of such helplessness and isolation. And yet, despite this utter desolation he could not bring himself to make a single noise, as though his body had forgotten its most primitive human instincts in dire straights. Tears welled up and spilled over, soaking into the fabric of his nightshirt, and again he pulled at the rope regardless of the obvious futility.

“Hello?” a small voice piped up, causing Finn to jump in surprise from where he sat, unaware that anyone else occupied this space. He wanted to respond, but still his mouth would not cooperate and his tongue was heavy like iron. The voice spoke again. “You alright? Did they hurt you bad?”

“Leave them alone.” Another voice harshly chastised, and Finn turned his head towards them. 

“Shush,” the first voice responded, and Finn felt the weight of another body settle next to him, roughly his own size. “Hi,” it said, now much softer as they sat side by side. “I’m Sami. That’s Kevin. They took us, too.”

“Why?” Finn finally managed to speak, his own voice cracking. 

“Dunno.” Sami replied hesitantly. “They showed up one day and kept sayin’ stuff about ‘demons’ and ‘monsters’-”

“They said Sami’s a demon,” Kevin’s voice cut in, still as distant as before.

“Don’t listen to him,” whispered Sami, sounding wounded. “But anyway, now we’re stuck.”

“Where’re we going?” Finn asked, continuing to fidget.

“Dunno yet. They say ‘the castle’ sometimes.” Sami paused. “Are you cold?”

“I-” Finn felt himself shivered, uncertain how long he’d been like that, perhaps used to it after suffering from chills for so long. “I’m always cold.”

“Maybe he’s a demon,” Kevin flatly stated.

“Here.” Two warm hands cupped Finn’s own, clasping them tightly, and Sami hummed for a moment before asking, “What’s your name?”

“Finn,” he sniffed, grasping onto Sami’s hands for some small comfort. “Thank you.”

While the carriage rocked back and forth, creaking loudly, Sami and Kevin bickered about how they could escape, formulating plans as best as two young children could. Finn quietly battled an onslaught of aches that were merciless even in these dark hours; not once, however, had Sami let go of Finn’s hands, and while one rubbed at them to provide a heat source, the other hoovered near his wrists and blindly traced the rope. Fatigue was as relentless as always, and Finn felt his eyelids grow heavy; he soon rested his head on Sami’s shoulder and nodded off to sleep as Kevin reiterated that he could easily confront their assailants head on whenever they next stopped. 

There was no light nor darkness in Finn’s sleep, no sounds, either. Instead, there was nothingness, and it was far more frightening than any other dream or nightmare he’d had so far, as though he’d be abandoned and forsaken by absolutely everything. 

His head shot up and eyes opened wide, and to his surprise, he could see the interior of their windowless prison with absolute clarity. Next to him sat Sami, a boy his own age that was scrawny with unkempt red hair, and in his hands was the cord of rope that once bound Finn’s wrists, which must have been undone while he slept. Across from them on the other bench was Kevin, a far larger boy with short dark hair and a scowl on his face, and they’d both turned to look at him.

“Finn?!” Sami squeaked out, looking startled and then his eyebrows knit. “What are those? Are...are those your eyes?!” 

“He **is** a damn demon!” Kevin scurried backwards, pressing up as far against the wall behind him as he could.

“N-no!” Finn exclaimed. “I’m not-”

“Your eyes,” Sami audibly swallowed. This time there was awe in his voice, though it still contained the hint of a tremor in it. “They’re _glowing_ , Finn.”

Finn opened his mouth to respond, to try to reassure them that he wasn’t a monster or anything to be scared of, but the carriage had sharply jolted, flinging the three boys from where they sat onto the floor, and then it halted entirely. Outside there was commotion, the sounds of yells and screams reverberating loudly. Without any warning the carriage was nearly knocked to its side and subsequently the boys were tossed around again, and another moment later it righted itself and started to move at a much faster pace. Jamie’s strained shouting rang out over whatever calamity they had found themselves in the middle of, urging Joey and their horse to hurry. Again the carriage jolted, as though something knocked hard against the the side of it, and the impact caused the door to be thrown open. Outside, the night sky could be seen starting to bleed into paler hues, and surrounding them were tall jagged rocks to one side and far below to the other was the expansive treeline of the forest. 

The boys clung to the edges of the benches as best they could, but the turbulence made it difficult to maintain any sort of stability. There was another bump, this time sending the carriage upwards and then come crashing down, causing Sami to loosen his hold and helplessly fall back towards the open door. Before Finn’s mind could register what was happening, his body acted of its own accord, and with a vigor he’d not possessed since before the time of the fevers and chills, he was able to reach out grab ahold of Sami’s arm with a now freed hand.

“Finn!” Sami cried out, trying to pull himself up, and yet still slipping. From behind him, Finn could feel Kevin’s mass shifting forward, now also trying to reel in Sami, but not quite reaching. Heart thundering loudly in his ears, Finn quickly came to terms with how he posed a physical barrier between Sami’s survival, how Kevin was probably much stronger than him and could actually save Sami. A deep breath was taken, and Finn pulled back as hard as he could, enough for Sami to close the gap a bit more but not enough for Kevin to make contact.

“Grab him!” Finn yelled to Kevin as loud as his lungs could manage, and the hand that had gripped onto the bench’s edge, the grasp between life and death itself, let go. He used the momentum to jerk Sami forward again, and it was enough to be successfully caught by Kevin, while his own body was launched towards the back and out the open door.

All noises were drowned out as Finn fell weightlessly from the carriage and collided with the dirt passageway that they travelled on. The velocity of the impact caused him to continue to tumble; unfortunately, they’d just turned on a switchback, and he was sent over the cliff’s steep ledge. He fell towards the treeline far below, and thought of Mother and Father, and Rebecca, if they were all waking up just now while the sun rose over the horizon. The branches of the trees grew closer and closer, and just as what Finn assumed would be his final moment of exhaustion that he’d ever experience again, pale blue lights streaked past him, bathing him in its glow, and he was engulfed entirely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a few fine folks to thank!
> 
> [moiself](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moiself/pseuds/Moiself) and [calmdowncold](https://archiveofourown.org/users/calmdowncold/pseuds/calmdowncold) for being true pals, reviewing this and giving fantastic feedback
> 
> [hellokhaleesi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellokhaleesi/pseuds/hellokhaleesi) for the best ghatdamn constructive criticism, and calling me out on bad habits that I love so much 
> 
> [smacktalkerskywalker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/smacktalkerskywalker) for listening to me go on and on and on about this since its conception
> 
> and [robintrigue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RobinTrigue/pseuds/RobinTrigue) for encouraging and inspiring so much of this in the first place


	2. Chapter 2

Rain had turned to sleet and pounded hard against the windows of the library, the only deviation in an otherwise placid setting. Several books were set upon the worn top of an ancient oak table, and then another large stack was placed next to them. The dust that had settled in a thin layer on the covers was carefully brushed off, and each book was looked over for damage or mold spores before being sorted into even smaller piles.

It hadn’t been an easy task, but since the previous librarian had passed away several seasons ago, few volunteers stepped forward to try to maintain some order until a suitable replacement could be found. Little did anyone know what a massive undertaking it’d be, to catalogue and organize and sterilize Aflir Temple’s sizeable collection. Who could even know without firsthand knowledge the pressure to care for illuminated manuscripts that dated back from hundreds of years ago? Or meticulously kept medical logs that carried within their pages the potential to cure the world of its afflictions?

As the main stacks grew smaller and neared completion of being sorted, an anomaly presented itself to the unsuspecting volunteer. He picked up and closely examined the soft leather cover to see if any text was present to indicate what discipline it should be sorted into, as there were no sigils marked on its spine to assist in his task. While it wasn’t uncommon to find a latch of some kind on the larger books to keep the pages pressed together, this peculiarity utilized thin leather strips that wrapped around the entire body of it.

“A journal?” He wondered aloud as he began to unwind the strips from off of the book. Once the restraints were at last removed, a thumb was slipped under the edge of the cover and it was opened. An insignia illustrated in faded ink took up most of the first page, with unrecognizable characters written just below it. The next page was equally puzzling, parts written in the same strange characters and parts contained words that were identifiable in his own tongue. He went to flip to another page, but the sound of the door opening and closing caused him to look up. It was unsurprising when his dark-haired friend was the one that surfaced, her hands on her hips and soaked hair clinging to the sides of her face.

“Sami, you’ll catch your death in here,” she teased, then waved her hand in front of her nose. “Don’t know how you handle the muskiness.”

“It’s due to the weather, Bayley. Once it’s spring, we’ll be able to let some fresh air in,” Sami explained, but she persisted with her exaggerated actions and he rolled his eyes. “Anyway, that’s what Dusty used to do to get rid of it. Can’t be helped right now.”

“Right,” Bayley nodded, ceasing her actions at the mention of the late librarian’s name and rubbed at her arm. There was a stretch of silence, and Sami gestured to a seat next to him.

“Care to join me?”

“Not now. I’m actually here to see if you could lend some assistance in my ward. I could really use an extra set of hands.” Her hand moved from her arm to the back of her neck, a well document tic when she hoped to seek a favor from anyone. Sami smiled and stood, stretching his limbs.

“I suppose. I’ve been here since sunrise, so a change of scenery might do me some good.” As Sami went to extend his left arm to stretch, he winced and withdrew it. Bayley looked at him with understanding and sympathy.

“Has it been bad this season?”

“No worse than another other winter,” nodded Sami. “I hardly notice it at this point.” 

In truth, it was less about whether Sami noticed and more that he’d actively willed himself to not focus on it at all. He’d done well in not succumbing to the agony of the memories associated with his shoulder and the events from a lifetime ago. Sometimes he’d awaken from a terrible nightmare that replayed the event in perfect clarity, of a boy’s body plummeting over a mountainside and the crash that left him with an injury that never quite healed. Dedicating his life and work to the temple seemed to be a fitting atonement for not having done _more_.

“Are you still with me?” Bayley’s voice cut through his thoughts, and he shook his head to dispel them from spiraling any further.

“I am. Let’s go,” assured Sami. After raising an eyebrow, she turned and walked towards the door. Sami took a step forward to follow, but he thought of the strange journal that he’d barely been able to look through. It was against policy to simply take books out of the library without permission, but there wasn’t a chance that this was unmarked oddity had actually belonged to the temple. Making sure that Bayley’s attention was elsewhere, he picked it up from off of the table and slipped it into his satchel, then joined her.

They hurried outside as fast they could while avoiding slipping on the slush that had accumulated on the path to the temple’s main entryway, somehow making it to the doors without a single fall or stumble; given the pair’s notoriety for clumsiness, it was a most impressive feat. In the grand foyer were small groups huddled together, vagabonds and the unwell, a routine sight around this time of year. They’d barely made it a few paces in before a small brunette girl ran up to Bayley, hugging her at the waist, then turned to cheerfully greet Sami as well. 

“Awful time of year for pilgrims,” Sami commented sympathetically after they’d taken their leave, and Bayley nodded in agreement.

“The devotion is admirable, but the mountains are just so dangerous…” Bayley trailed off, sighing in exasperation. “Did I ever tell you about that old calendar that I found a while back in the library?” 

“I think you mentioned it.” Sami tried to not mask his jealousy.

“Right. Well, it’s really something. The seasons that are marked on it are completely different from what they’re like today.”

“That so?”

“It is. I’ve heard that The Cataclysm really shifted things around, but I didn’t realize just how drastic it was until actually going through the records.”

“So a few centuries ago it probably wasn’t like this outside, huh?” Sami motioned towards a window they walked past, at the sleet and ice pelting against it.

“Not around the Martyrs’ Festival, no.” She shook her head. “A lot of people have lobbied for the empire to change the date to one where the weather’s a bit more predictable, but no one’s had much luck.” 

“Figures.” Sami scoffed. It wasn’t as though the travellers were inept at their calling, and each year the pilgrimage was made across the land by the masses was usually met with a great degree of success; however, without fail, there were always reports of fatalities due to hazardous travel conditions, all of which seemed entirely preventable had the festival taken place in another season. Much like every other burdensome thing of the past that the empire clung to, they’d reasoned that if they changed anything too much it’d anger the Higher Power and possibly incite another Cataclysm. No one dared argue with that logic, and as a result it made progress difficult. 

The way to Bayley’s ward stretched on for far too long, the hall that lead to it drafty and darkened. It was unsurprising that her section was in the least appealing wing and that care of the invalids was kept segregated from every other ward. Once upon a time, these people would have been considered damned and turned away, but Bayley’s compassion and tenacity granted her a space for treatment, provided she assume full responsibility. Through this, Sami was able to take his education and training to unprecedented heights, learning to treat patients in a mostly controlled environment; in return, he was happy to assist whenever he was able. 

Upon entering the chamber, they were quick to retrieve oilcloth gloves and masks, covering the bottom portions of their faces. Bayley instructed that Sami start with the back right side of the room, since that row had yet to receive any treatment that day. From bedside to bedside he moved, listening to the patients and closely inspecting the areas that warranted complaints, then jotting quick notes on his findings; at least five patients in a row complained of aches and fever, along with lesions on skin, and Sami reassured them that he’d figure out a prescription for them as soon as he knew what the temple had in stock for medication.

“Bayley,” he’d pulled her aside. “There seems to be a common malady trend.”

“I’ve noticed,” she frowned. “But if it’s _Sitaun_ ’s fever, there isn’t too much we can do to treat it.”

“What’re you saying?” Sami searched Bayley’s face for any kind of answer, her lips drawn in a line. He handed his journal to her, pointing to his notes to emphasize the point, and she glanced down. “See? It's mostly the same. _Sitaun_ isn’t anything unusual, we-”

“Come with me.” With a hand on his arm she led him towards the back of the chamber, through a heavy wooden door and down yet another hallway, then turned into a much smaller room. From a drawstring bag attached to her hip, Bayley produced a tinderbox and pulled out the firesteel. She struck it against the closest stone surface, igniting some charcloth and at last lighting the candles that had been mounted near the entryway.

When he was just a neonate Sami had spent many hours in this very room, learning to preserve and store herbs that he’d gathered himself from the temple’s gardens; later he’d learned healing properties and even granted to mix recipes for simple salves and tonics. He looked above his head and saw various stalks suspended from the ceiling, different scents flooding his nostrils, from woody rosemary to the sweetness of mugwort to the spiciness of basil. Moving forward into the room he’d nearly bumped his head on a dangling cluster of plump garlic bulbs, one of many attached to a long piece of twine that stretched from one wall to another. 

Bayley motioned towards one of the few imposing cupboards that lined the room and beaconed Sami over to meet her. From the drawstring bag she produced a small key that was inserted into the lock on the cupboard’s door, then threw it wide open.

“I don’t recall ever being allowed in this one,” Sami chuckled nervously, as though he was about to be entrusted with some forbidden lore that he was not prepared to receive.

“It’s not just you; it’s off-limits to pretty much everyone aside myself and a few others that I can’t name.” She scanned the shelves that were stocked with containers of all shapes and sizes, her finger hovering over a few before she found her target. “Ah!” A small vial was pulled out and handed to Sami. “Be _extremely _careful with that.”__

__“What is it?” Sami clutched it between both hands, observing a dark liquid that swirled around within its delicate glass chamber._ _

__“That’s the question,” sighed Bayley. “We know it’s the extract of a specific kind of mushroom grows somewhere deep within the forest, but we know almost nothing else. From what I gather, just like so much else, that information was lost when Lilroga was destroyed.”_ _

__“So how’d we end up with it? And what does it even do?”_ _

__“A lot of the artifacts that we’ve...inherited...have come from clergy members brave enough to investigate the ruins. They’ve even managed to recover quite a bit from the library, which has been a huge help in running, well, everything around here. One time someone found an infirmary that was buried deep under the sand, and what was amazing is that everything was perfectly preserved! There were roots and spices and plants that we’d never even seen before, providing an almost endless possibility for treating diseases...” Her voice elevated higher and higher the more she explained, and Sami cleared his throat._ _

__“Bayley,” he said with an apologetic smile, not wanting to interrupt his friend, but knew that she’d ramble offtrack all night and day if not stopped._ _

__“Right, sorry,” laughed Bayley. “Anyway, this fungi was a part of what they’d brought back, and at one point we’ve used it in nearly all medicine we make.” She lowered her voice to a whisper and looked around, as though someone else was present. “Sami, it treats almost _everything_ , stomach and breathing issues, rashes and even carcinomas -to a degree. But due to its scarcity, we’ve had to ration it, especially recently. I’ve been diluting it in vinegar just to dispense it, but the fact of the matter is that we’re running out.”_ _

__Sami pursed his lips in thought. “And it’s in the forest? How’d you find out about that?”_ _

__“It’s written on one of the scrolls that came with it. And long time ago, Mick made a trip into the forest and actually brought some back, enough to be preserved and last until now; but he also came back haunted by whatever happened there, and no one’s made a successful trip since then. Now the temple’s put a ban on anyone entering the forest, citing it’s too dangerous and that the demons dwell there.”_ _

__“But we gotta do something!” Sami threw his arms wide in exasperation, then quickly withdrew them when Bayley’s face dropped. He handed the vial back to her. “Sorry!” There was no darker shade of scarlet ever seen in comparison to his face in that moment while she glared at him. “But. If it’s out there, and we know that it is, we can’t just sit around here while people get sicker. And _Sitaun_ is dangerous when it’s not treated, Bayley, we know this. What if people start going deaf or it takes their minds?”_ _

__“We’d have to get permission, though. And you know how Charlotte is about that. She’s already made threats to start taking away certain herbs due to their association with witchcraft or whatever.”_ _

__“I wonder if Loovah could track it.” Sami rubbed at his beard, decidedly tuning Bayley out at the mention of Charlotte’s name and the idea of permission._ _

__“Your reindeer?” Bayley’s tone was laden with amusement._ _

__“Yeah, reindeer are naturals at finding mushrooms! And he’s been trained since he was just a calf, to forage and hunt for ingredients that are harder to cultivate ourselves. It was the only reason that I was even allowed to keep him in the first place.”_ _

__“I...don’t know, Sami.” She turned and set the vial back on its shelf, then locked the door again. “Lemme think about it alright? Maybe I can sweet talk Charlotte myself. I think she’s still mad at you for that time you burned the curtains during her Investiture ceremony.”_ _

__Sami thought to protest, to defend his good name and again reiterate that no person should be left to hold a candle for that length of time; that it was inevitable for hot wax to melt and burn and that his reaction was totally normal and justified, that **maybe** such things should have been accounted for during the planning process. Instead, he nodded in agreement. Anyway Bayley knew all of this, probably. “Sure, that sounds great.”_ _

__The candles were extinguished and together they left. Bells rung loudly mere seconds before they reached the ward’s door, and Bayley dismissed Sami to go get dinner, saying she’d figure out a remedy for the patients he’d seen earlier based on his notes. His rumbling stomach agreed with her, so he took his leave and made way towards the refectory._ _

__A throng of temple clergy had already gathered for supper, and Sami scanned the room for somewhere to sit. He’d spotted an empty spot next to Sasha and hurried over to occupy it, knowing full well that if he didn’t take a seat near someone he knew they’d politely re-route him to the guesthouse where the meal would be sub-par at best. She rolled her eyes at him when he sat down and smiled at her, which wasn’t the worst reaction he’d gotten here._ _

__Dining was a silent experience, everyone’s eyes cast down at their own dishes while they ate. Sami had to remember to keep his less savory habits in check, to not make any excessive noises chewing or slurping, or gesturing wildly, lest he risk punishment via pushups at the front of the dining hall. Life in the city had, in ways, reprogrammed him to be far more lax than he’d ever been allowed when he was raised at the temple, but it was never too difficult to slip back into old mannerisms whenever he visited._ _

__There was a slight tug on his sleeve while he soaked a piece of bread in a broth of salt and lard that had been garnished with boiled greens. From the corner of his eye, he could see Sasha discreetly gesturing, her hand at the side of her head and moving it so that it formed an arc and mimicked the unique way that Bayley tied her hair up. Sami shrugged, quickly shaking his head as well to emphasize he hadn't any idea if or when Bayley would join them._ _

__He finished the last bite of a small wedge of cheese, then wiped his hands off on the piece of linen cloth that’d been provided and departed from the refectory. The poor weather had cleared up at some point and the last sunlight of the day pierced through the tall windows along the halls that stretched along the floor and cast shadows all around; the contrast between the two was nearly excruciating to the eyes. As he walked, a loud “Hold it, Sami!” echoed, and he turned to look behind him._ _

__“Yes?” He responded as Sasha strode over towards him._ _

__“Is Bayley seriously going to miss dinner? Again?”_ _

__“She didn’t say anything to me!” Sami’s hands shot up in front of him, as if that would further assert his innocence or placate her._ _

__“Oh, so _you_ were with her!” Sasha was close enough now that Sami could make out the way her brow was pulled down. _ _

__“I didn’t say-”_ _

__“So why didn’t you drag her along with you?” She let out a frustrated groan. “She keeps missing meals, then gets punished when she gets caught sneaking around the kitchen late at night.”_ _

__“There’s a lot of sick people, Sasha. A lot of patients to treat,” offered Sami, and she crossed her arms at that._ _

__“Well she won’t be able to treat anyone if she doesn’t ever eat,” snapped Sasha, and Sami couldn’t argue with her._ _

__“I think she’s still in her ward, if you wanted to talk to discuss it with her.”_ _

__Sasha hummed, her lips pursed in thought, and with something that sounded like a muffled ‘thanks’, she turned on her heel and left. Sami was not at all offended by her curt nature, not when she served at the deputy and worked as hard as Charlotte, but reaped far less of the benefits that the named Lady Superior was entitled to. He smiled and proceeded again, towards the stables since it was unlikely that Loovah had eaten yet, either._ _

__Horses and ponies alike occupied the expansive structure, and towards the back of it was where Loovah was temporarily housed. He was an awkward sight, his antlers stretching well into the feed alley. The reindeer immediately perked up the moment Sami was in his field of vision, his head raised high enough so that his throat shown clearly and was rewarded with scratches. Sami grabbed ahold of the bridle that hung on the post of Loovah’s stall and fastened it over his head, then threw open the gate and held tight to the reins. A few times Loovah affectionately nudged Sami from behind as he was led from the stable, and received hearty pats in return. They walked past the entrance and towards a few trees nearby, the reindeer’s nostrils flaring a few times as they drew closer._ _

__“Alright, go ahead.” Sami released the reins and Loovah nibbled at moss that clung to the bases of the trees, scraping some of the bark off with his antlers to eat as well. While the reindeer moved from tree to tree to graze, Sami reached into the satchel and pulled the journal out. He looked around to assure himself that no one else was around, then opened the cover and began to skim the pages. In the day’s dying light, he could make out both recognizable strings of words and strange glyphs, as well as illustrations of flora he’d never seen, fantastic and perhaps imaginary. Before he had the chance to delve much further, Loovah’s muzzle obfuscated his view, sniffing at the pages. Sami yanked the journal away before it became a part of the reindeer’s diet that evening._ _

__The distraction wasn’t the worst thing, Sami now acutely aware of how the wet earth has started to seep into the seams of his boots. Loovah was returned to his stall once he’d had his fill, and Sami retreated to the guest chamber that he’d occupied during his visit. He wanted nothing more than to study the journal further, but exhaustion overcame him when he thought of how much work the library still needed, and instead he opted to rest._ _

__Morning bells tolled far before the sun rose, and everyone sleepily gathered in the refectory for breakfast. After a meal of bread and jam, Sami let Loovah out to graze, then returned to the library to resume his work from the day before. He set down a borrowed lantern and his satchel atop the table he’d been working at and continued to sort. Occasionally he paused to bring a few matching stacks over to a shelf, out of the corner of his eye seeking out and sometimes finding books on different languages and setting them off to the side._ _

__There’d been a few visitors later in the morning, but none that needed Sami’s assistance so he kept at his tasks. He’d break every now and then to peek through the books he’d set aside, seeing if any of them contained the same glyphs that were in the journal. Eventually, luck was had hours later in the historical section when he’d been cleaning cobwebs and managed to knock down several nearly-out-of-reach dust covered tomes. The spines and pages were investigated for damage, wiped off and placed back where they belonged, but the cover of a particularly ancient manuscript immediately caught his attention. The letters on its cover were gilded and faded, but there was little doubt that ‘Daemone’ was what was written on it, and upon further thought the resemblance to the strange glyphs in the journal was quite coincidental._ _

__Sami scratched at his beard and allowed himself to take a just look, stunned when faced almost immediately with examples of what he was positive that he’d seen earlier in the journal. Practically flinging himself over to where his belongings were, he tore through the satchel and yanked out items he’d accumulated on his travels, a compass, a map, a medical kit, and rations, until finally grabbing ahold of the journal. He unwound the cord and opened it to a page where the glyphs were prominent, then placed the manuscript next to it and looked back and forth fervently. He’d spotted several characters that match, and in the pre-Cataclysm script there appeared to even be something akin to translations. His eyes widened and his breath was held, as though the secrets held within the text would scatter should he make a single disturbance._ _

__Then, without warning, there was a loud ** _thunk_**._ _

__Sami’s head shot up at and swiveled at the direction of the noise, and could see that one of the windows now had cracks that stretched out like a spider’s web. Small fragments of glass loosened and fell from the center of it, where the impact must have been made, and streaks of blood dripped from off of the edges of hole that had formed. He dropped everything and rushed outside, to the side of the building where the window was installed._ _

__There was nothing on the ground below the window, but blood was splattered and ran down the exterior walls of the library. Sami peered closer and found black feathers haphazardly stuck to the grizzly scene, both in the cracks of the window and against the cool stone walls, and yet there was still no signs of whatever unfortunate creature caused the collision. As Sami turned to inspect the area around him for anything, he heard a nearby shrub rustle. He parted a few of its branches and leaned in to get a better view, finding the still body of a raven._ _

__“Oh!” Sami gasped aloud, using one arm to hold back the branches while the other cautiously scooped up the bird. Once it was removed from the shrub, he instinctively attempted to cradle it in both arms in order to better carry it somewhere safe, but an arrow that had been lodged in the bird’s wing made this an impossible task. Still, even in just one arm, Sami could feel that there was a heartbeat. He didn’t stay put to ponder if this was some sort of miracle, and instead hurried back to his belongings with the raven held tightly._ _

__Thankfully, the library was vacant when he scurried to gather up everything. He thought to remove the arrow, but should anyone walk in upon him performing surgery in the library he’d most likely be escorted off the premises. Instead, he broke off the shaft in half so that it’d be much easier to transport the raven. A wool scarf that he kept in the satchel was wrapped around the its body, and Sami haphazardly clutched at every item he’d thrown out earlier. His eyes darted from the journal and then to the manuscript, knowing full well the risk he was about to take and the penalties associated with them, and shoved both books into his satchel as well._ _

__With the raven bundled up and pressed to his chest, he strode along at a pace that would not seem suspicious while still moving with an authority. He tried to recall passages that would be less occupied, and miraculously managed the way to his temporary quarters with only having to greet a few people in passing. The door was shut behind him and the raven’s body was placed on a small table that sat in the corner of the room. He unwrapped the scarf, now with bloodstains soaked in it, and came face-to-face with the wounded corvid. In a gentle tone, Sami addressed it with, “Hey friend, I’m gonna try to take care of this, just-”_ _

__The raven weakly cawed, interrupting Sami. It cawed again, louder this time, and Sami brought a finger to his lips and responded with a _shhh_ ; he was surprised when that actually worked and it settled down. He spread out the contents of the medical kit and selected the scalpel, a needle and thread, a vial of anesthetic he’d made himself, and some dried moss that he’d managed to keep away from Loovah somehow. Cursing for not having brought the lantern with him, he dragged the table over to the window for a lightsource. _ _

__“Alright, I need to look at your wing,” Sami coaxed and gradually stretched out the wing as far as the raven would allow for it. “There we are. Good bird.”_ _

__Surgery was not something that Sami had been extensively trained in, but he’d performed simple operations before; combined with knowledge he’d obtained via mandatory combat and self defense lessons, there was a small measure of confidence he could act upon. He recalled one of the first lessons he’d ever received, to never try to pull an arrow and the complications that could arise, usually agonizing and leading to death. The moss was pressed down on the entry wound to absorb more of the blood, then set that aside, followed by a few drops from the vial to numb the pain. “Now, this is going to hurt. And I’m awfully sorry about that,” he stated before taking a deep breath and holding it, and the way the raven stared back at him was eerily cognizant._ _

__Scalpel now in hand, Sami used thumb and forefinger to hold back the feathers near the arrow head. “Here goes,” he muttered and made a quick incision above the wound, causing the raven to thrash and claw. Another incision was made below, an impressive feat as the large bird writhed in agony; yet aside a few pained squawks, it mostly remained silent, as though it understood what had been requested of it from earlier. Sami waited for a few moments, until the raven had finally settled down. Putting a finger on the arrow’s shaft, he traced downward towards the wound itself to try to get a sense of depth and whether it pierced the bone._ _

__Unable to get a reading, he held the shaft delicately between his fingers and attempted to give it a small twirl in place. To say that he was relieved when it moved was an understatement, and with another breath held to steady himself, Sami gave a few light tugs. The arrow head was dislodged, seemingly intact. More moss was pressed to the now open wound, then more drops of anesthetic was added after. He grabbed the needle and threaded it, murmuring “just a bit longer” before he made the first puncture into the raven’s flesh. Its beak opened and closed several times over, yet it still remained quiet and Sami hoped that it wasn’t going into shock from too much blood loss._ _

__The needle continued to rise and fall as he meticulously added each stitch, and he finally tied the thread off once the wound was closed. He inspected his work, then wondered what he could do about wrapping the wing up. In the meanwhile, the remaining possessions were cleared out of the satchel and he scooped the now docile raven up from under the scarf that it still lay on, setting it inside of the bag. “You should be cozy in there for a while.”_ _

__Tucking the journal and the book underneath his pillow for safekeeping, Sami planned out his next steps. He’d noted that his tunic was now smeared in blood, and how it needed to be washed; perhaps, he wondered, if he could also claim that he’d accidentally injured himself and gain bandages as well. The raven would also need to eat, and Sami thought of the corvids he'd seen at the bin of food scraps just below the window of the kitchen._ _

__Dawning his mantle to make the stains less obvious, he stepped out of the room and walked with urgency to Bayley’s ward. Unsurprisingly, Bayley was busy attending patients’ bedsides, going back and forth like a honeybee in a garden. Sami hung around in her peripheral until she finally was able to acknowledge him._ _

__“Hi Sami, I don’t have much time to talk right now-” Bayley started, and Sami shook his head._ _

__“Don’t concern yourself with me,” Sami cut her off. “I’m just here to ask if I could take a few supplies. Managed to scrape my hand earlier on a manuscript’s embellishment.”_ _

__“Sure, help yourself.” She gestured towards the storage cabinets that lined the walls, ignoring the way that he attempted to draw her attention to a spot on his tunic’s sleeve. “You don’t need any help dressing it, do you?”_ _

__“No, I’ve got it under control!” Sami cheerfully replied, already half-way to the cabinets. He rummaged through a few drawers, finding the bandages and taking enough for several dressings worth. He then helped himself to some thread to replenish what he’d used up, some lye soap, and a few large rags for good measure. From across the room he called out his thanks and farewells, and again hurried along. As soon as he was out of her view, he breathed a sigh of relief; albeit, he was mildly vexed that the dramatic efforts over his fabricated injury heeded no attention._ _

__Retrieving scraps appeared to be a little more of a challenge, at least initially. There were other clergy members out and about as they tended to livestock and prepared the gardens for spring, so Sami had to appear innocuous. Off in the distance, Becky’s fiery hair could be made out as she trained a small cadre of neonates in self-defense. Sami paused to watch while making certain that no one watched him. An unfortunate volunteer lay helplessly on the ground as Becky nearly wrenched their arm out of its socket; yet Becky herself was all smiles as she presumably explained the merits of putting a person in a position where a limb could be broken. In self-defense, of course._ _

__The victim was at last let go and Becky helped them up from off the ground. She continued to address the group, but while her gaze went back and forth it inevitably met Sami’s. A wide smile and small wave was directed at him, which he returned, but it was fleet digression and her attention was back on her students before he could even blink. It was the opening that he’d been seeking and meandered towards the bin, although he still looked back and forth to see if anyone paid him any mind. Just as he seemed to be in the clear, he was stopped by a high-pitched, “You! Hey!”_ _

__“Huh?!” Sami turned to face the direction of the voice, pointing at himself. With a pail in her hand and a smile on her lips, Summer’s willowy form sauntered towards him. “What can I do for you?” Sami greeted, gripping harder to the supplies that he’d hoarded from the infirmary._ _

__“Look, I need a favor.” She thrust the pail into his open hand. “Could you fill this with the garbage and feed the pigs? I’d take care of it, but…” She trailed off and shrugged. “I’ll owe you.”_ _

__“I can do that!” Sami readily agreed, shocked by his fortune. Summer raised an eyebrow at him, her smile faltering for a brief instance before recovering; in that short span of time, Sami panicked about being found out. There was an awkward pause, and he thought of making a joke about whatever favor he could possibly even need from her. He opened his mouth and nearly got a mouthful of long blonde hair and she spun around to walk away._ _

__“Anyway, thanks Sam.” With a faux sincere tone, she waved over her shoulder._ _

__“It’s Sami,” he corrected and could feel the eyeroll response without even seeing it. It was probably the longest conversation they’d ever had, and given Summer’s ties to Charlotte, it was certainly better than anything he could have expected. Still, if her delegated task had been to feed the livestock, he wondered if all was well within the ranks._ _

__Shaking his head to dispel the thought, he dipped the pail into the the bin and filled it with a heaping amount, then brought it over to the pens. The swine squealed in delight as he approached them, and Sami had never been more grateful for the cold weather than right then as he dealt the rotting food out. Before the pail was completely emptied Sami investigated the bottom and, using a rag, reached inside and pulled out what appeared to be gizzards and bread crusts. He tied the edges of the cloth together for a makeshift bindle and held it out of sight under the mantle._ _

__Again, he managed to successfully avoid social interaction on the way back to his room; to Sami, it was nearly unfathomable to _not_ hold a conversation with passerbys. He closed the door and checked in on where the raven was hunkered down, its breathing steady as it dozed. Everything he’d taken was laid out and examined, the rag filled with scraps untied and placed near where his satchel sat. _ _

__Even with enough supplies on hand and how his moral compass guided him to help a less fortunate being, he still felt uneasy about the situation and how many rules that he was currently breaking. It wasn’t as though he risked homelessness since he no longer lived at the temple itself, but if he was ever banished it could put his status and livelihood in jeopardy. Perhaps he could end his visit early, return home to finish caring for the wounded raven and even continue deciphering the journal. He could resume his volunteer work at the library at a later date, maybe after he’d been granted support to enter into the forest and seek out the medicine that Bayley needed. Mick must have left notes behind from his own travels, something that he could follow as a guide._ _

__The raven’s stirring dragged Sami from his thoughts, and he beamed at it as it made soft _awk awk_ noises. He pushed the food towards it, and as the raven poked its beak near the rag, he explained, “You should try to eat, if you can.”_ _

__The raven turned its beak up at the scraps and Sami frowned. “I’m sorry, I really don’t have anything else to feed you. But I did bring back stuff for your wing. Would you mind if I took care of it?”_ _

__They stared at one another for a short while before the raven at last stood from inside the satchel. Sami reached out with trepidation, his fingers grazing the feathers on the left wing while the bird studiously observed. When there was no reaction, the bandage was brought over and the wing lifted enough to be able to wrap around it completely. “You’re awfully smart,” Sami remarked in awe as he finished winding and tied it off. “I know that corvids are intelligent but...you get this, don’t you? What I’m saying?”_ _

__It responded by trying to peck at Sami’s hand, its caw not unlike a chuckle as Sami quickly moved out of the path of the beak. He huffed while the raven settled back down in its temporary nest, and resigned himself to his own bed to continue reading. Both the journal and the manuscript were taken out from under the pillow and put in front of him, and Sami began to pour over them for the next few hours._ _

__It wasn’t long into this that he was fully aware that this attempt was feeble, that his knowledge of pre-Cataclysm script was hardly passed as basic comprehension. Eventually, he paid more attention to the journal itself, at the passages that he could actually read and at the strange illustrations. Another page was turned, and a piece of loose parchment that had been folded and wedged between fell out onto his lap. Sami picked it up and began to unfold it, finding that it expanded into a large map of an intricately detailed area that he did not recognize._ _

__“What _are_ you?” Sami asked himself as he began to lay back and held the map high above his head between both hands. A yawn was stifled, then another, and Sami’s eyelids grew heavy as stones. He struggled to keep his eyes open, but going horizontal had practically sealed his fate. A slurred “please eat your food” was uttered towards the raven before he fully succumbed to sleep._ _

__The room was pitch black when Sami awoke, and he hadn’t any idea how long he’d slept. Surely by now he’d missed dinner, a shame since he could have snuck fresh bread up to feed the raven. He tried to sit up, but as he shifted there were sharp pangs in his chest that prevented him from moving any further._ _

__“Don’t. Move.” Came an unfamiliar voice in a thick accent from directly in front of him. The pain tightened, whatever it was digging into his skin and causing to Sami hiss in agony._ _

__“Who are you? What do you want?!” Sami responded in a panicked whisper._ _

__“Yer goin’ t’get me outta here, lad. With m’journal. With m’map.” It growled at him, and Sami nodded in the dark, his nose brushing against something solid and pointed, like a knife’s tip. Whatever it was, it moved lower and pressed against his throat. The pain in his chest temporarily eased before seizing again that was accompanied by sudden flurry of noise. Something soft with hardly any weight fell on Sami’s cheek, and he blinked in total disbelief._ _

__“Are...are you...wait. Are you the raven?!”_ _

__The question was met with silence. Again, something soft brushed against his face._ _


	3. Chapter 3

Sasha shook her head at the pitiful sight laid out before her. Books and charts, writing instruments and an endless variety of tools were catastrophically strewn about the large desk; atop all that was an unconscious Bayley. In the dying light of a candle’s flame that'd nearly burned down to the wick, a string of drool could be seen unbroken from her mouth and hovering just above the desktop.

"Bayley!" Sasha snapped, and Bayley moved faster than anything she'd ever seen before in her life. 

"What?!" Bayley blinked a few times, then shook her head to dispel whatever bit of tiredness clung to her. She adjusted her hair while exclaiming, "I'm awake!"

At that assertion, Sasha snorted. She studiously ignored the piece of bread and cluster of grapes that Bayley attempted to subtly cover with her hand. "How long have you locked yourself in here?"

"I don't even know," she answered honestly, not bothering to conceal a yawn. Sasha frowned. "But I'm guessing that if you're here, the answer to that is 'a while'. And that I'm about to get lectured."

"I don't lecture!" exclaimed Sasha, her arms crossed as indignation radiated off of her. They stared at one another for a moment, Bayley's expression full of defiant mirth while Sasha continued her defensive stance, until finally both facades collapsed.

"I'm sorry," was all Bayley said, her head now hung low.

"Bayley, why?" Sasha gestured to the desk, then the room. "What's going on with you lately?"

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Bayley closed her eyes and heavily exhaled. "There's going to be an epidemic soon. I'm sure of it. There's just-" She reached out and grasped at the air in front of her. "There's so many patients. I'm giving it my all, and that's all that I can do."

"Does anyone else know?"

"Not yet. Not the extent of it, anyway." She offered a weak smile as she turned to face Sasha again. "I was thinking of asking you soon, to see if there was any way I could get your support on holding court with Charlotte, and-" A pained groan interrupted Bayley, which she giggled at. "-maybe we could figure it all out."

"That might be the actual worst thing you ask of me."

"I know."

"You'll owe me."

"How virtuous." Bayley laughed as Sasha rolled her eyes.

"Sorry, I wasn't aware that any of us operated under that context anymore." There was open bitterness in Sasha's tone. It was Bayley's turn to frown.

* * *

“Well? Are you?” Sami hoarsely asked, his throat bobbing as he swallowed and driving the point in deeper.

“Aye,” the raven snarled, what must have been the bottom part of its beak dragging down Sami’s neck when it responded.

“And this isn’t a dream?” Sami tried to joke. The pain against his neck and his chest intensified, and it dawned that it was talons that were embedded in his torso. “Alright!” he cried out in pain. “Alright, it’s not a dream.”

“Ah could tear y’r eyes out right now.” The beak lifted and then settled again between Sami’s eyes.

“That’s really not necessary.” A nervous laugh slipped past Sami’s lips. “I’ll be happy to get you out of here with your...stuff. Where do you need to go?”

“Away.”

“Ah. Of course.” He hadn’t expected any more of a response; perhaps hoped for just an ‘outside’ instead of an uncomfortable generality, but Sami had no intent to engage in combat with something he knew not the extent of its powers, so he’d comply. “But you have to let me up so that I can get my things.”

The raven was silent in contemplation, but eventually dislodged its claws and hopped down. Sami sat up and rubbed at his chest, reaching under his tunic to try to feel how deeply the wounds ran and was relieved to find that they were only at the surface level. Once he sat up, the raven was on Sami’s thigh and hopped up, landing on the bad shoulder. In his ear, it hissed, “Grab y’r things, lad.”

Sami obliged as quickly as one could with talons agitating a chronic injury. By moonlight everything was neatly packed away and Sami began to fold up the scarf, the blood on it still damp. “Hey, so-”

“What?!” The raven snapped.

“Well, I can’t just walk out with you on my shoulder. Could you ride inside my bag for a bit?”

“How’m Ah supposed t’know that you won’t _try_ something.” Its beak was now just at the edge of Sami’s ear canal. 

“I guess you don’t have any real way of knowing,” Sami acknowledged. “But I don’t know what you are. A talking animal is probably a strong indicator that a lowly apothecary such as myself might be outpowered.”

“Hm…” hummed the raven, and was silent once more.

“It’d just be until we pass through the gates.” The offer was evidently sound enough, and the raven launched itself off of the shoulder and landed on the table with a hard **thud**. “Be careful! You’ll hurt yourself again.”

“Sod off,” it grumbled. Sami tucked the scarf atop the rest of the items in the satchel, and the raven climbed inside.

“Do you have enough room?”

“No.”

“Sorry. It’ll just be for a little while.” Sami donned his mantle and latched the top of the satchel, then slung it over his shoulder. With the utmost caution, his door was opened and quietly shut behind him. Flames flickered from candles that were mounted to the walls as he hurried down the hall, their dance agitated as he passed by each one. He hadn’t an idea what time it was, but through the windows the moon could be seen high above the temple, above the trees and the mountains.

Sami wished that he could have reveled more in the stillness of the night. He thought fondly of years ago when he’d meet with Bayley late in the evening and they’d sneak out into the kitchen to sample pastries that were to be served the next day; or catching fireflies with Becky as she demonstrated the technique she’d learned from her brother when she was a child. As Sami reminisced, a dull pain in his thigh brought his attention back to the present, and looking down he could see where the raven’s beak had poked against the the leather of the satchel.

“I’m hurrying,” Sami sharply whispered, and the beak receded. He turned down a corridor that led past Charlotte’s private chambers, knowing full well the risk he took. It was a worthy attempt, if it meant that he’d be outside and rid of the agitated being in his satchel that much sooner. Taking a deep breath as soon as her door came into view, Sami stepped lighter than before and conjured up images in his head of creatures far more graceful than him; of deer and foxes bounding across icy tundras without so much as disturbing the snow under their feet.

Closer he drew to it, his heart hammering in his chest. He took one step, then another, now so close that he could see the reflection of a candle’s flame in the metal of the door’s handle. With one last breath, he prepared to finally make his way past it and get on focusing solely on the mission at hand. That breath was for naught, however, for the door opened and all the air left his lungs as it did. Just before he could sprint away, he came face-to-face with Becky, her own face mirroring his shocked expression. 

Wordlessly, she reacted far before he was able to and gripped tight to his arm, tugging at him with urgency. Once they’d rounded a corner further down, she turned to face him, hand still fixed to his arm.

“Sami, what’re ya-” she started, her voice low and brow furrowed while her eyes searched his face. The faint illumination by candlelight made it seem as though her face was flushed and that there was a slight sheen on her forehead.

“Look, I can’t really talk right now.” Sami realized how bad that sounded, how he was a guest within these walls and no longer a resident and had no right to address one of his hosts this way. “I have to leave, though. Right now.”

“Oh.” The response was unreadable, but the grip finally loosened. Becky’s expression shifted to something softer, and the sound she made could have been mistaken for relief, if Sami didn’t know better. “Sure Sami, whatever you say. Do y’need me t’give word to the gatekeepers?”

Sami scrunched his nose, but still replied with “Yes, please.” Had this been seasons back, they all would have pressed him for more information before accommodating his requests. He’d told himself several times during this stay that it was because they trusted him, but there was a nagging voice at the back of his mind, and it whispered that they wanted to be rid of him as quickly as possible.

“Very well,” she nodded. “Y’need me t’let the others know tomorrow? That y’ve gone off?”

“Could you? I feel awful for not being able to properly say goodbye.”

“Of course. I’d be happy to.” The hand that still was on Sami’s arm squeezed it affectionately, then let go. Just before he was about to give his thanks and leave, not wanting to take any more of Becky’s time, she smiled at him. “Sami?”

“Yeah?”

“Come by more often, would ya? Or at least send message to let us know that you’re doin’ well? Not dyin’ alone on a roadside anywhere or anyt’ing like that.”

“Oh.” Sami blinked in surprise. “I will! I’m sorry, I didn’t-”

“It’s fine. I know t’ings were…” She pursed her lips in thought. “They were tense when y’left. But it hasn’t been the same since you’ve gone, either. And some of us even miss you a bit.” She dropped a wink and he laughed, then was immediately shushed.

“Sorry, sorry!” He quietly apologized. “I’ll make a better effort to keep in touch. Thank you for thinking of me.”

“Take care of y’rself, Sami. I’ll go let the gatekeepers know now.” Becky spun around and began to head in the other direction of the hall.

“You too, Becky.” He waved, despite knowing that she was out of eyesight, then continued.

Halls that saw far less traffic lacked the lighting that Sami had used to guide him until now. He often found himself at the mercy of the windows spaced far apart and the moonlight that filtered through them; other than that he kept a hand against the stone walls at all time and tried to keep himself from stumbling in the dark too much. On occasion, the raven’s beak pressed into his thigh again, prompting Sami to pick up the pace and he silently cursed the entire time.

Outside, the cool air threaded through Sami’s hair and grazed across his face; not harsh enough to sting, but enough to gauge that the pending journey may be unpleasant. Thankfully, the full moon’s light bathed every surface it touched, every stretch of ground and every tree branch were not spared of its illumination. A lantern would be unnecessary, as long as they were cautious down the mountain’s path. 

“Shouldn’t be much longer. I just need to get my reindeer,” whispered Sami. “Would you like some fresh air now?”

“Get on with it,” came a muffled hiss. Sami wasn’t sure if that meant to move faster or in regard to his question, but he assumed both and unlatched the satchel. The raven’s head poked out, its neck feathers briefly ruffled then settling down. Absently, it commented, “Awfully chilly.”

“That it is,” Sami agreed. He followed the moonlit path to the barn and opened the doors. Once inside, he asked, “Say, how well are you able to see in the dark?”

“Well enough.” The curt response was not unexpected.

“Great. I’ll need your help to get Loovah ready. He’s at the end, do you see the antlers sticking out?”

“Yes.”

“How much further until we get to them?”

“Several paces.”

“Thank you.” A few more steps forward were taken, and each time Sami stopped a begrudging ‘keep going’ came from the satchel.

“Alright, stop. Y’ll poke y‘r eye out if y’go any further.”

Sami smiled and reached out, his fingers brushing against the solid texture of an antler. It moved away from his touch, and was replaced by warm breath and oh-so familiar nibbles. “Hi, you,” he warmly greeted Loovah, and received a snort in response. He turned his attention back to the raven. “Next part. Can you see the bridle and the saddle?”

“Aye. It’s slung up to y’r left, attached to a beam it looks. The saddle’s in the stall, on a bench.” As the raven gave directions, Sami had begun the process of gathering the equipment. “C’n you put any of that on him in th’dark?”

“Once we’re outside, it shouldn’t be a problem. We just gotta lead him there.” With the bridle now in possession, Sami slipped into the stall and kept a hand on the wooden beams, using them as a guide to navigate towards. His knee bumped against the bench, and he sharply inhaled through his teeth in pain. After he shook it off, the saddle bags were blindly sought out, snatched up as soon as they were found and thrown over the right shoulder. The saddle itself was picked up next, and with a few more pats in the dark to gain bearings, it was finally placed on Loovah’s back. “Say, uh...raven?”

“What?”

“I think I have some food in there. Can you check under the scarf for me and see if there’s anything at all? We can use it to lure Loovah.”

“You _had_ an apple,” replied the raven, and if Sami didn’t know any better, he’d say there was some amusement in its tone.

“Is there still a core?”

“Aye.” Seconds after, a cool sliminess brushed against the back of Sami’s hand before the next question could be asked. He took the core from what he assumed was the raven’s beak and wondered if it could read minds to have known what the next question would be. 

“Thanks.” An inquisitive snort and the sensation of warm breath on his face was all that Sami needed for a signal. He found the stall’s gate and opened it, holding out the apple in what he could only guess was Loovah’s general direction. More steps were taken backwards, the raven intermittently muttering _that’s it_ in what seemed to be encouragement; Sami bit his tongue to keep from commenting on how just a short while the corvid had threatened his life.

Further and further Sami backed up, until he reached the barn’s exit and could finally see via the moonlight that flooded in. He relinquished the apple core to a desperate Loovah, and while the reindeer was occupied with that he wasted no time in fastening the bridle. The saddle, lopsided due to being thrown on in the dark, was straightened out. Then the saddlebags were thrown over Loovah’s flanks, and Sami pulled himself up onto the hastily prepared back of his ride. A heel was dug into the reindeer’s side, accompanied by a few clicks of the tongue, and they were off at a moderate pace.

They rode along the pathway that divided the front lawn of the compound, towards the imposing gates that towered over everything save the belfry. As he approached, he closed the satchel again and came to a full stop when he was finally close enough to make out the facial features of the guards on duty. 

“Heeey Sami, where’re you off to so late?” Murphy sauntered over, with Blake in tow. They both stopped and exchanged glances with one another that made Sami uneasy. He wondered where the third member of their troupe was hiding.

“Becky should’ve been by to tell you to open the gates.” Sami looked down at both of them, searching for any hint of recognition at what he asserted. Murphy rolled his eyes and Blake scoffed, opening his mouth but was cut off by Alexa’s approach.

“Hey,” she snapped her fingers, and all attention was turned to her. “You both have orders, get to the gates. _Now_.”

“But-” Murphy started to protest, and Alexa crossed her arms across her chest, her scowl deepening with each passing second.

“He’s not worth it,” she flatly stated. Sami frowned at her, but she’d already turned around. Blake and Murphy nodded at one another with mirrored grunts of acknowledgement and followed Alexa’s lead.

For each moment that dragged on, Loovah impatiently stomped a hoof into the ground. Not even Sami’s pats to his neck or scratches behind the ears could settle the reindeer, perhaps agitated by the tension that hung thick in the air. Thankfully, the gates opened just before they’d started spinning in place, and Loovah shot out of it at full speed like an arrow from a bow.

Into the night they rode, through the chasm that was just past the gates and towards the mountain path. _He’s not worth it_ clanged loudly in Sami’s head again and again, his face now hot from the indignation of dismissal. While he stewed, Loovah continued to hurry past boulders at reckless speeds; after nearly crashing a third time, Sami shook himself out of his thoughts and focused on what was immediately in front of them.

Sami guided Loovah, eventually pulling on the reins to slow him down into a far more manageable pace. The sound of hooves echoed loudly against the rock walls that stood tall on both sides, soon accompanied by squawking within the satchel. Sami opened it back up, and could see ruffled feathers poking out in every which direction.

“Sorry! Sorry,” Sami quietly apologized. “I know I said that once we got past the gate, but-”

“WHAT THE HELL, LAD?” Cawed the raven loudly, and Sami winced.

“I just...I panicked. I’m sorry,” pleaded Sami as he discreetly rubbed at his eyes. He could feel the raven staring at him, but it remained quiet for the duration, at least long enough for him to steady his breathing. “So,” Sami chuckled nervously. “Where to?”

“Just keep going.” There was a gruffness still present in the raven’s voice, but it’d softened considerably. “Tell me something, though.”

“Sure,” nodded Sami.

“Why’re ya doin’ this, exactly?”

“What?” He laughed again, this time incredulously. “You...you threatened my life, remember? Back in my room? And you’re a _talking bird_. Frankly, I have no idea what I’ve gotten into.”

“That all?” This time, there were no edges in the tone whatsoever, only genuine inquisitiveness. “Y’could drop me off anywhere right now, hurl y’r bag far away and maybe buy y’rself some time. Take a chance.”

“I’m taking a chance right now, aren’t I?” Sami exhaled and ran fingers through his hair. “Why do you care?”

“As far as Ah c’n tell, we might be ridin’ together for a bit. And y’haven’t tried t’kill me yet for threatenin’ ta kill you first.” There was a pause. “Of course, y’don’t have to say anything. Maybe y’r just a dumb bloke with nothing better t’do than faff around libraries an’ Ah’m wasting my breath on you.”

“Also a possibility.” With a free arm, Sami moved the satchel so that it sat securely in front of him rather than off to the side. “Guess I didn’t have any reason not to.” He waited for any response but none came, so he continued. “I mean like...you might be evil and maybe I’m aiding that. I don’t think you are. I hope you aren’t.”

“It’s tough to say, nothing’s so black and white in this world. Ah’m sure t’some I’m considered a scourge.”

“Wow, that sure does little to ease that particular concern.” Sami snorted. “Well, all I can do is hope that you’re not entirely evil and aren’t about to unleash some kind of threat on the empire. And even is you reveal yourself to be that, I could maybe try to stop you and people might remember me for doing something good.”

“Rather than for something bad? What’re ya, a criminal?”

“No, not at all. But.” Biting the inside of his cheek, he continued to look straight ahead. “I think if I were to die right now, in this chasm, or in a few day’s time in those woods, I wouldn’t be really be missed. I don’t even think anyone would come looking for me if I disappeared, now or ever.” Once those words left his mouth, the silence between the two was nearly deafening, and Sami was thankful for the echoes from Loovah’s hooves. “I’ve spent so long wishing I knew how to just fade away, but even if I had that ability I’d probably still be too much of a coward to use it.”

“So you want that Ah should turn ‘to a dragon and have ya fight me in th’ middle of a city should it get to that point?” The raven asked in complete seriousness, and Sami’s head shot down so that he could better look at it. “Ah'll let’cha get a few good swings in before I roast ya.”

“You can do that?!” Asked Sami in awe, and the raven cackled.

“You’ll just have t’see, won’t’cha lad?”

“I-” Sami paused, shaking his head. “You can call me Sami, y’know.”

“Well then, Sami.” The raven seemed to have a tough time with the way the name felt in its mouth, but continued. “We’re far enough from the temple. Should we have a wee break t’gather ourselves?”

As if on cue, Sami’s stomach rumbled loudly, reminding him that he had not eaten since breakfast. He tugged at the reins again so that Loovah came to a stop, and responded with, “Sure.”

They moved behind a few rocks that jutted from out of the earth and provided a makeshift camp. The satchel was placed on the ground and the raven stepped out of it, stretching its good wing out. Sami located his tinderbox and got a fire started, then pulled out part of a stale loaf of bread and broke off a piece to share with the raven. “By the way,” he started to say as it gingerly pecked at a few crumbs. “Do you have a name?”

“Aye,” it responded, but didn’t expand further.

“Care to share it with me?”

“Hm…” It pecked once more, than swallowed. “Ah suppose you c’n call me ‘Adrian’, if y’need ta so badly.”

“That works for me,” Sami nodded. They sat in silence for a while longer, Sami occasionally fending off hair nibbles from Loovah while Adrian preened. A million questions ran through Sami’s weary head, about what Adrian wanted with his so-called journal and map, what their destination was if there was any at all, what Adrian actually was. At last, he remembered his original mission, to find Bayley’s mushroom and help the sick, and he wondered if being taken somewhere against his will meant that he could bypass permission to enter the forest. With a deep breath, he looked to the sky, at the full moon and the canopy of stars above them, and breathed out, “Hey, Adrian?”

“Yeah?” The response was muffled due to his beak being full of feathers.

“Do you know how dangerous the forest actually is?” Sami looked over at him, and Adrian returned his gaze. “Like could I get through it on my own?”

“Probably not on y’r own. With some help, maybe. Even then, there’s no guarantees.” 

“Do you know what it’s like in there?”

“Considerin’ Ah live there, I’d say so.”

“Could you help me, then?!” Sami lurched forward suddenly, causing Adrian to launch backwards and caw iniritation. Hands in front of him to show that he meant no harm, Sami leaned back again. “Oh, sorry! I-”

“Listen Sami, you can’t just go prancing about in there all clumsily. It’s sacred grounds for some, a battleground for others.” The feathers around Adrian’s neck stuck out the more he spoke, now resembling a dark mane. “It’s alive and it’s restless and it’s no place for humans.”

“But I need something from it.” Sami firmly stated. 

“Lotsa y’r kind say just that. Then they get Haunted, or _worse_.”

“That’s...fine.” Sami swallowed hard. The feathers on Adrian’s neck gradually went down and smoothed out, and the raven cocked his head while still staring. “I was told that there might be something that grows in there, an ingredient that my friend uses to make medicine. There’s a fever going ‘round that normally we can treat because of this medicine, but I was told that we’re running out. I don’t know what’ll happen if it gets out of control, but it won’t be good.” 

“Y’don’t know the risks that y’r proposing.” Adrian’s replied evenly.

“Yeah, but I know the risks if someone doesn’t do something.” Looking down at his own hands as they nervously wrung, Sami grimaced. “If one person can do something that’ll help countless others, there isn’t much room for argument, is there?” When Adrian offered no retort, Sami continued. “Besides, you’re injured. You probably need a ride back to your home, and I wouldn’t be surprised if that was the direction you were going to lead me in, anyway.”

“Clever, aren’t’cha?” Cackled Adrian, and Sami’s head shot up, his eyes wide. The raven stood tall and hopped over closer, perching right atop Sami’s leg. “Alright, Sami. Ah’ve some more errands to run, and if y’re up t’the task, this could be mutually beneficial.”

“So you’ll help me in the forest?” Sami could taste his own desperation, but he didn’t care.

“Ah’ll do what I’m able, but Ah’ll warn ya now that it may not be much.”

“That’s fine!” In his excitement, Sami nearly stood up, but stopped himself when talons almost immediately dug into his thigh. “Oh, sorry! I didn’t mean to do that.”

“Settle down, now,” leered Adrian. “You haven’t enough supplies, as far as Ah can tell. Could y’make a stop anywhere to stock up?”

“If we go back into the city, I’ll be able to gather whatever I need. We might even be able get there before sunrise.” The words rushed out of Sami’s mouth as if he didn’t show earnestness or take advantage of this opportunity right now, it’d vanish and he’d be back to square one. Adrian hopped down from off of the leg and wandered back over to the satchel. Standing up, Sami dusted off his trousers and followed suit. Once Adrian was back inside and secure, the satchel was lifted up and Sami ascended Loovah again. 

Sami thought to ask questions, if only to spend less time in his own head, but Adrian didn’t seem to be in the mood for conversation so he refrained. Sometimes an encouraging word would be offered to Loovah as they pushed forward through the chasm, but other than that he kept to himself.

Curiously, despite how much distance had been covered, each time Sami looked up into the sky the moon remained in the same position. He’d travelled this route so many times before throughout his life, and was almost certain that he could navigate it entirely with his eyes closed. They should be nearing where the chasm’s mouth met the mountain passage, but the inability to even give estimate how much time had passed caused threads of uneasiness to wind and tighten.

“Sami,” Adrian’s voice cut through Sami’s thoughts. “Tell me, do y’smell something sweet?”

“Do I-” Sami paused and sniffed the air, uncertain what could be the cause of Adrian’s concern. Sure enough, something faint lingered in the air, something possibly floral but unlike any flower he’d ever smelled before; and yet, there was something familiar about the scent that he just couldn’t recall. “Yeah, a little. Why?”

“Pick the pace up,” growled Adrian, his feathers beginning to stick out again. Sami dug a heel into Loovah, but the reindeer hardly needed any encouragement to move faster. Mingling with the echo of the hooves were high pitched noises, grating and simultaneously melodic, and they grew louder and louder. Sami’s blood froze.

His mind went back to another time he’d been chased in a mountain range, of the boy that went flying over the edge and the crash that left him scarred and in chronic pain. He remembered crawling out of the wagon he’d been imprisoned in and seeing the once barren rocky cliffs eerily flourishing with vines and flowers that neither him nor Kevin could recognize. He remembered the mangled bodies of their captors, ensnared in the very same plant life that surrounded them. He remembered the sweet scents and the shrill laughter and the peculiar pair of women that simply vanished, leaving him and Kevin for fend for themselves in the mountains.

Without warning, the pain in Sami’s shoulder flared up and was searing, as though it was actually set ablaze. Instinctively he clutched at it and cried aloud, his wails of agony drowning out the laughter that drew closer ever yet and everything that Adrian shouted at him. So excruciating was this pain that he began to feel faint, his vision blurring first at the edges of his eyes and then blinding him entirely.

And then everything went black.

* * *

One eye opened, followed by another. From under leaves and woody tendrils Adrian stirred to full consciousness. He snapped and clawed at the vines until they yielded, then sprung to his feet. He looked around at the once barren cliffs that stood tall on both sides, now living walls of toxic and carnivorous flora. The moon was still present in the sky, but was now sinking as it naturally should, and once there was daylight all of the sickly plant life would thankfully perish.

“Wretched creatures,” grumbled Adrian as he shook himself off, not the slightest bit concerned of the spores that clung to his feathers; if anything, he was begrudgingly grateful for the coating. Quickly he tore apart the bandages that held his wing in place and tested it out by stretching and retracting several times. For as terrible a place at the forest could be, it certainly cared for its own, even if the methods were...strange.

It took little effort to get airborne, but remaining stable while in flight took for more concentration than Adrian was comfortable with. Undoubtedly, his assailant from earlier was competent enough to cast some ritual on the arrow that had been fired at him; even if its potency was no match real against Adrian’s own abilities overall, a minor annoyance such as this could be dangerous should he be caught off guard again.

After gaining altitude, he circled above the chasm in an attempt to spot Sami or his reindeer, but saw nothing. He thought to call out but decided against it, since there was the very real possibility that sudden sound vibrations may stir the plants into a frenzy. It depended on just how cruel the Sowers were, although they tended to refer to their work as being ‘efficient’.

Still, there was no scenes of utter carnage, which could only mean they did not come to feed. Adrian followed the larger vines by line of sight, all the way to the mouth of the chasm. Unsurprisingly, they spilled over the edges of the mountain path and vanished into the canopy of tees far below.

With a deep sigh, he plummeted and continued to track them. Of _course_ the damned fool that had finally managed to unearth his possessions would be a target of some bloody Sowers. And while he wasn’t quite prepared to begin to speculate on how the foul beings managed to get as close to the temple as they did, the questions and the possibilities that were now awakened as a result of what he’d witnessed first hand burned in the back of his mind.


	4. Chapter 4

The forest sang.

Each leaf and stem, each blade of grass and root vibrated in unison.

 _Something_ stirred. Darker than shadow or the night sky, it was camouflaged by the thicket that it prowled in. It tasted the air, tasting the shift. 

Tasting _intrusion_.

Fluid was its movement, as though it were ink made sentient. It began to track. Silent. Predatory. 

It began to **hunt**.

* * *

It took some time to adjust to the darkness, but at last Sami could vaguely make out his surroundings. Judging from the stray flecks and beams of light that poked through from above, the sun had at last risen, but it hardly had any impact on visibility. He hadn’t a single idea how long he’d been out, only that when he awoke it was on a bed of moss, spongy and damp. His belongings were, shockingly, still in tact; he himself was mostly unscathed, aside a few expected scrapes and aches. The shoulder was no worse for wear than usual.

Beyond that, he was alone.

“Loovah!” Sami called out again, his voice echoing. He’d lost track of how many paces he’d travelled and pushed on. Quickly he learned that simply moving straight ahead was a near impossibility, since roots of all size protruded from the ground; some were so large and expansive that he had to climb over, holding tightly to the bark and hoisting himself. Some were even larger than that, so large that while ducking he could walk underneath them. Mostly, though, he tripped over the ones just small enough to go undetected.

He kept focus on each step ahead of him rather than the erratic thoughts kept barely tucked in the far corners of his mind. The “where” was far less critical than “how”: how was he going to find Loovah, how was he going to survive? And should he be able to secure both of those questions with an affirmative answer, how was he even going to find Bayley’s mushroom without a sample for Loovah to track?

Most importantly, how he’d deal with the fact that he already failed his mission before it’d even begun.

Panic should have seized Sami, but instead he marched forward. He was acutely aware of the water began to seep into the seams of his old boots, which he’d meant to bring to the cobbler for repairs once he got back home. And how his feet chaffed and ached, how blisters started to form and swell. It wasn’t as though he wasn’t in good physical health and couldn’t manage a trek, but in no way was he prepared to navigate an alien terrain without so much as a map.

Something brushed against against Sami’s shoulder and the top of his head. He reached up and grabbed what touched him, feeling the rough texture of a vine between his fingers. Any thought of attempting to climb it came to a halt when it fell to his feet after a quick tug. Still, he picked it up, coiled it and slung it over his good shoulder, then moved again. More vines had to be ducked or they’d get caught under his chin, which he’d learned via experience.

Underfoot, rocks seemed to multiply without warning. Sami briefly lost his footing and stumbled forward, sending some stones rolling down and away. Until now, the elevation had been so gradual that he hadn’t noticed it much. Peering into the dark as best he could, the outline of larger stones were faintly visible. Exhaling, he threw himself at them, pulling himself up one and then another. He bit the inside of his cheek to mitigate the pain in his feet and shoulder; when that was no longer enough, he sunk teeth into the forearm’s flesh.

He went to reach for the edges of the next boulder, but found none. Grimacing, Sami ran his hands all over the stone surface before him and quickly realized he’d reached what must have been the wall of a cliff.

“No,” he weakly uttered, the full weight of exhaustion sinking all the way to the bone. He grabbed a fist full of moss from off of the stone in some sort of defiance before turning his back to wall and slid down it until he was seated. Gloves were taken off and set down, and he rubbed at his eyes in frustration. After a deep breath, he collected himself before disorientation became a real threat. The satchel was placed in his lap and rummaged through, until reaching the tinder box and then a knife and pulled them both out.

Steel struck flint and sparks landed atop charcloth, and it wasn’t long before a flame burned steadily. With light to aid him, Sami took and unsheathed his knife and cut into the vine, feeding the pieces to the small fire to make it grow. Somewhere, Kevin’s disappointment over the use of the knife for something so utilitarian could be felt from an unknowable distance away. But what else could be done in this situation? Sami had not once ever encountered any sort of monster that it was meant to be used against, was never in a position where the blade’s _supposedly_ toxic coating was of any use to him. It was a gift that he didn’t want to accept or care to keep in his possession, but after a long string of insults and accusations about his survival skills, he begrudgingly accepted it (if only to get Kevin to be quiet just once).

A few small stones were gathered and arranged around the fire, keeping it contained. His clothing was not yet so damp that it needed to be removed, but he was still terribly uncomfortable and sore. As he pondered the next steps to take, nuts and dried fruits were nibbled at and sips of water were taken from his canteen, but were quickly put away. For now, each morsel and drop had to be rationed.

The fire wasn’t large enough that Sami could see too far beyond the space he occupied, but he could now make out more tree trunks and rocks. From behind, he could see that the wall of stone expanded up into the darkness; to the left, it was no better. He didn’t harbor much hope for the right of him, and sure enough he was not incorrect in his assumption. However, not far from where he sat, there was a something curious in the shadows atop a large boulder that abutted the wall.

“Huh,” quipped Sami to no one, unable to see more than vague shapes that had been assembled together. Not wanting to waste more charcloth, he wrapped some unused strips of bandages around a piece of the vine had been cut off, and dipped that into the burning fire. He stood from his spot and wandered to the edge of his boulder with the makeshift torch, holding it out to try to get a better view. “A cairn?” 

The gap between the two boulders was sizeable, but not so large that he couldn’t get over it; but the surfaces of both were certainly damp and he questioned whether or not his boots would keep grip. Questioning, however, did nothing but waste precious time, so he took a deep breath and leapt over the gap, clearing it but nearly slipping after he landed. After barking out a laugh at the minor accomplishment, he approached the object with caution and held the flame near it.

It stood no higher than Sami’s knees, and was also made of rock. It was, marvelously enough, a handmade structure. “A shrine?” Sami’s eyes widened, and swiftly he crouched to examine it closer. Plush moss that was laden with small toadstools had overtaken the top and sides of it, but the details carved into the small columns that held it upright were still prominent. It sheltered a humble wooden bowl, which currently sat empty.

“Oh, I…” He pat himself down and looked back over at his makeshift camp, where the satchel currently was. Into his tunic he reached, grabbing ahold of a small drawstring sachet that was kept well hidden. The opening was pried by index and forefinger, and the contents were emptied out onto the boulder: a few copper pieces, a silver piece, some iron pyrite from a poor client that Sami had feigned ignorance over when it was handed to him, a dried sprig of mint (for safe travels), a bead that’d been found and may or may not be made of precious stone, and a stray candied chestnut that must have accidentally been packed into the wrong sachet in a hurry.

Sami didn’t know too much about spirits or gods, but he’d accumulated a little hearth wisdom from his time in the city and on the road. Some materials were revered while others were blasphemous, depending on the entity. The shrine revealed no hints of the intended recipient, not that Sami would have been able to figure it out had there been some kind of identifying sigil. He wondered if perhaps it was meant for the forest itself, and which items in front of him would be the least offensive. Eventually the chestnut was settled on, since the coins and bead were forged by humans, the pyrite may be viewed as in poor taste, and the mint sprig was something he had been instructed to keep on him at all times. Into the bowl it was placed, and after the torch was wedged into a thin crack in the stone, he got down on both knees and whispered, “I am humbled by your might. Please grant me safe passage, I will cause you no harm.”

Then he arose, gathered the remaining items, and took the torch back into his possession. He returned to the boulder where the campfire and his satchel were and settled again, contemplating the next direction. Chunks and splinters of the vine were fed to the flames, and absently he watched ash mingle with curls of smoke and rise towards the canopy above.

Now that he had light to see, the deafening tones of the forest had softened considerably and the reprieve was welcome. The arrangement was temporary, for without his lantern that’d been packed in Loovah’s saddlebags and without oil to sustain the torch, the fire simply could not accompany him any more than at his station. He removed his boots and stockings and lay them out to fully dry. Blisters were examined, the larger ones drained and bandaged; they’d only slow him down if left intact, the risk of them bursting and becoming infected while wandering around lost too great. He reclined enough so that his back rested against the wall, and focused.

There was a possibility that what he rested against was nothing more than a crag, but if it was the same stone walls that stretched high above the treeline housed the mountain pass, it meant that he’d been travelling east. If he followed it, it may take him south and, if fortune favored him, out of the forest entirely. Curiosity had Sami lingering on what-ifs, on staying and exploring and testing is own resolve, but reason was far more tenacious and reminded him that he was grossly underprepared as it was. Of course, if he had Loovah to travel by, he’d be in much better shape.

As if on cue, a loud bellow from off in the distance interrupted his thoughts, and Sami sat upright. Without delay he pulled his stockings, boots, and gloves back on and stood. The rocks that had been arranged the fire were kicked into it, and wet moss that clung to the wall were pulled off and rung out, the water released from them fully extinguishing the flames with a loud _hiss_.

“Loovah?!” Sami called, recognizing the reindeer’s cry. It crossed his mind that he may be hallucinating, or that it could be another deer, but to stay put and not make certain was too dangerous to leave to chance. Another bellow spurred him on, and he scrambled to get down from off of the boulder, almost forgetting to take the satchel in his haste.

It seemed as though the sound came from the direction that Sami had already decided he’d travel in, and he was grateful for this convenience. He kept his left hand held out and away from his body, intermittently grazing the palm against stone as he walked to be certain that he was within the vicinity of the cliff walls. Minutes passed while he moved through total darkness, and the forest grew louder, making it difficult to try to pay attention to one specific noise when there was such an overwhelming cacophony of grunts and shrieks and growls coming from every direction.

Yet, he continued, hoping to hear anything familiar and hoping that his friend was not in trouble. His eyes barely adjusted to the darkness, which now felt denser than before, and he wondered if such a thing was even possible or if it was just his imagination. Sami stopped in his tracks and in desperation shouted Loovah’s name, was shortly after rewarded with another bellow, this time west of where he stood. Instinctively he turned his head to the sound and immediately chastised himself for being so foolish, but the inner monologue ceased entirely when he caught sight of a faint blue glow several paces away. It was a few small spots in the distance, and he squinted to determine whether or not the light was real; but the longer he stared, the brighter they glowed. He walked towards them without further hesitation, inexplicably drawn in.

Wet squelching from impact with deep puddles did not deter him, nor did thorny undergrowth that snagged his trousers. The lights seemed to multiply with every step closer to them, and Sami hurried, wanting -needing- for something more than blind wandering. Moments before the approach, he even came close to saying a prayer for the first time in years, a glimmer of unknown potential becoming excruciating.

There were more walls, this time made of compact earth rather than stone. Tilting his head up, Sami could see an opening with a ledge just above eye level, and the pale blue glow dimly illuminated it. He jumped and grabbed onto it, hoisted himself up and ignored how his shoulder started to throb in pain from overexertion. Thick roots protruded from the dirt, so he used those as aid, stepping on and pulling at them until he was completely over the ledge and gasping for air at the entrance of what appeared to be a tunnel.

Sami quickly shielded his eyes; although the light glowed softly, it still took a few moments to adjust to after being submerged in total darkness. He eventually lowered his hand once he knew that he could handle looking around, and gazed at his surroundings with wide-eyed wonderment. Above his head and on all sides, moss delicately suspended like icicles, shimmering with blue and green hues. It hung from trees that were bowed and grown thick together, forming impenetrable arches. The bottom was carpeted with an even thicker moss that was dotted with small white flowers, as well as ferns and toadstools that had gathered in heavy clusters. Everything seemed to gently pulse, breathing.

It was unlike anything Sami had ever seen before in his life. He felt something in his chest stir, but could not place a finger on the unfamiliar sensation.

He had to remain crouched due to the low ceiling, and after scattering moths that had flitted around the flora, it felt wrong to disturb the tranquility of this place. There must have been some other way to go where his presence would not be so intrusive. As he began to move backwards to leave, another bellow sounded off and echoed loudly in the tunnel, causing the hanging moss to sway violently. Sami stopped himself, then with total conviction pushed forward.

The tunnel narrowed so much that Sami had to get onto his hands and knees to crawl through it, at some points even having to almost lay flat. Branches and roots, for as helpful as they may have been to gain leverage, equally impeded him at times, so much that he had to use his knife to cut through them and progress. He apologized for his actions, fearful that this broke the promise he’d made when he deposited the offering to the small shrine.

At first it was only on occasion, so scattered that Sami questioned if it was real, but golden flecks of light started to mingle in among the blues and greens. The tunnel widened again, enough so that Sami could shake off mild claustrophobia and even breath properly. Then it turned upwards at a vertical enough angle that he had to climb for a short while. From above he could see what he could only hope was actual sunlight streaming down, each beam narrow as spider’s silk. More noises from the outside filtered in, chaotic and amplified, and yet it sounded as though he might be reaching the end of the tunnel. When it had suddenly leveled out once more, the relief was short lived before confusion, and then dread, settled in.

The tunnel stopped.

The trees that formed it had woven together so tightly that they’d formed a barricade at the point which Sami stood in front of. He tried to brush aside some of the more spindly limbs, but they hardly yielded for him. In frustration he pushed and yanked, but they remained steadfast in place. Tears began to well up as he slumped down, at a loss for how to proceed and trying to keep himself from spiraling into a total panic. He’d held himself together until now, but his reserves of optimism and wonderment felt as though they’d been bled dry.

Though his eyes stung, he could still see that between some of the limbs there shone muted light being stifled, yet still attempting to push through. He looked to the knife in his hand and frowned, knowing what must be done. As the blade sunk into bark, he yelled for his reindeer and started to saw into the wood. He anticipated a familiar bellow, but instead heard a series of inquisitive grunts in response that were impossibly close, like they were just beyond these trees.

While he cut, it dawned on him that this may be for naught; that if the noises came from some other animal and not Loovah, it meant he have strayed from what was potentially the only route he had to exit the forest. It meant that he’d still have to crawl back through the tunnel or find some other way back altogether. It meant that he’d wasted time, something he did not have as a luxury. 

It meant that Loovah was still somewhere out there, alone.

And yet, were there any other options but to try? To take risks?

There was a _snap_ , and Sami realized that he held a newly severed tree limb. He peaked through the opening that it left, but could not make out anything distinct due to how narrow it was. Another branch or trunk was worked on, and then another after that and so on, until Sami could reach his entire arm through it. Even more were cut through, some now able to be pushed and bent since they now lacked reinforcement. Finally, he was able to get both an arm and leg past the opening he made, but could not yet fit his head or torso.

Looking through it still provided very few answers. There were definitely beams of sunlight that pierced through the darkness, but they were scattered far apart. Beyond the tunnel was possibly a clearing, but it was much too heavy with shadow to tell.

A stream of light wavered, as if something had moved through it, and Sami felt his heart in his throat. He gripped the knife tighter, the hair on the back of his neck now stood straight up. Strained grunts of a cornered beast echoed, followed by heavy stomps and the steady rumbling of earth being run over. It was only a flash, a moment faster than the eye could register, but he was certain that he’d seen antlers rush by just then. 

For all of the praises that Sami could sing for Loovah, all reasons good and bad and every quirk that made the reindeer unique, a willingness to overexert himself was simply not one of those qualities under the best of circumstances. Perhaps he’d bound about energetically prior to meal time or in the presence of treats, but Loovah was -frankly- too lazy and generally unmotivated unless he found himself in dire straights or was otherwise urged on. And among the grunts and heavy breathing that was now so close Sami could swear that he felt it, there were guttural snarls not much further away.

Sami worked with a feverish intensity that he had not previously experienced before. He hacked away recklessly, not caring at all if it’d dull the blade. The opening was only slightly wider now while still not quite large enough to slip through comfortably, but a renewed commotion just outside had him force his way past the branches and trunks. Silently he cursed as jagged edges and twigs snagged his clothing and scraped against his skin, one nearly gouging his eye out but instead dragged across his cheek. 

Finally, after enough frantic squirming, Sami was freed of the tunnel. He stumbled forward and just barely avoided tripping and falling. A voice in the back of his head trembled and whispered that he no longer had the safety of the barrier of trees, but it was squashed when he took the first steps into the opening and, from all the way across it, locked eyes with Loovah.

Overcome with relief, a laugh mingled with a sob escaped Sami’s lungs and he had to keep his knees from buckling. Just as he reached out to Loovah, the name had not yet even left his mouth before the reindeer reared up on his hind legs. Sami froze in place while Loovah lowered his head and charged ahead, directly at him. Blood rushed in his ears while he stood paralyzed, stuck helpless watching what he knew, and yet could not fathom, was his demise. No one would know his fate. No one would mourn.

Then, within a hair’s breadth away, the direction of the charge changed. Sami blinked as Loovah rushed past him a few paces, then stopped, turned, and bellowed; it was so loud that Sami covered his ears as he stared in shock over having never seen the reindeer so agitated before. His gaze followed Loovah’s own, which landed across the clearing and appeared to be focused on nothing. He squinted, trying to see if anything was really there, when the sensation of discomfort from earlier returned in full force. He lowered his hands so that he could use them both to hold the knife, and continued to watch the same spot. Pale blue lights appeared, similar to what he’d seen in the tunnel, but this time they revealed themselves in rows and each one was almost identical in size. There was another guttural snarl, deep and rocking Sami to his core, and the lights hurtled towards him at a breakneck pace.

Before a single thought was processed, Sami turned and ran. He sprinted, practically flying over roots and stones and debris on the forest floor, barely touching the ground. Behind him came the sound of dirt being pounded from something very large and very fast, something which seemed to have no trouble keeping up. His heart felt as though it’d tear itself from his chest, and against his better judgement he looked over his shoulder to see _what_ pursued him. 

Mere paces behind him, something blacker than the forest itself began to close the gap between them. On four legs it stood taller than a lion, but then it rose to two legs was almost as tall as a bear. Sami could see its enormous claws, each one larger than his hands, and glowing with the same color that he’d guessed was its rows of teeth. It was now close enough to touch, and it reached a long arm out as though to maul Sami. Sami simultaneously turned and reached out himself, and with all of his might plunging the dagger into the beast.

Much to Sami’s surprise, it staggered back and howled. He breathed heavily, his chest burning as his body struggled to fill itself with air, but he knew that he could not waste this opportunity and started to run again. The knife was left behind in the wounded monster, but Sami could not think of that right then. Instead, he thought of nothing, fueled only by the instinct to continue moving. 

So caught up in survival that he hadn’t registered the piles of snow and slush that had accumulated on the ground which he hurried through and scattered; nor did he pay any mind when his boots began to lose their grip and he started to slide about. It was only when a loud cracking noise caught his attention did he begin to realize something was amiss, which was much too late as fell through a sheet of thin ice and into frozen water.

“HELP!” Screamed Sami to no one as he clawed at small broken fragments of ice to try and keep afloat. It was no place to succumb to the effects of exhaustion, but his entire body felt heavier than lead and he went under again. He struggled under the water for what felt like hours, needing to remain conscious, and when he tried once more to resurface he found himself faced with a thick sheet of ice. Pounding his fists against it had no effect whatsoever, only causing him to become more tired with each strike. 

Hands painful and now thoroughly chilled, he stopped and dived again, but was unsuccessful with navigating away from the ice. His neck and shoulders tightened as he struck with his fist once more, this time the movement was much slower. In the frozen water he trembled, teeth chattering and appendages aching in a way that he’d never experienced before, accompanied by total weariness. The tingling soon gave way to numbness, and Sami could not even tell that he was sinking deeper and deeper into the water.

There were sounds, but he could not recognize them, and voices that he did not know in his state. Shrill laughter. A man singing. Bells. A small boy, scared. Yelling, so much horrible yelling.

Movement. More cracking. More yelling. Caw. Caw. **CAW**.

Everything burned. Sami gasped aloud. He tried to wriggle out of his clothing so that it would not weigh him down. It was far too hot, his skin _burned_.

“ **OY**! Keep him down!” A disembodied voice shouted, and Sami felt himself pinned. “Don’t let ‘im up, we’ve got t’keep ‘im heated.”

“Right,” a much softer voice responded. 

“Might start thrashing about. Watch yerself now.” While the first voice spoke, Sami tried to sit up once more. He was held back down with a gentle force, and he did not have the strength to choke out a sob. It felt as though he’d been tossed into a fire, and was not permitted to leave. “Yeah, like that.”

Something warm was brought to Sami’s lips and poured into his mouth, which he swallowed involuntarily. The heat from the liquid brought on a sudden awareness that he was not overheated in the slightest, but quite the opposite: he was freezing. Shivers racked his body, and more of the liquid was presented, which he greedily drank with as much energy as he could muster, anything to get that warmth inside of him.

“Easy there, it’s alright,” the soft voice returned from somewhere above him. Feeling began to trickle into his appendages, his skin gradually going from numb to tingly. He could start to taste the salt and herbs in whatever he was being nursed with and could feel the weight of something heavy and itchy draped across his body. A fire crackled nearby, and he could smell something cooking on it.

“How’re ya holdin’ up?” The first voice asked, its tone less commanding now.

“Should be fine,” the softer one replied. “Only really hurt at first, y’know. As long as we’re careful getting it out…”

There was a soft hum of acknowledgement. Sami opened his eyes to attempt to see whose care he was in, but his vision was blurred and he could only make out a person’s silhouette directly above him. In his disoriented state, he reached a hand up in an to attempt to discern whether or not any of this was real. The silhouette moved, as though it was ducking, but then something that felt like fingers touched and then held Sami’s hand, keeping it in place. He closed his eyes again, the unfamiliar sensation of contentedness heavy and driving down to his core. 

The two voices quietly discussed among themselves how to proceed, the gruffer one inquiring if they could make it back to the hut and the softer one unable to offer much input. Sami’s hand squeezed down on whatever occupied it, full feeling returning, and to his surprise it lightly squeezed back. He wondered if he could now vocalize, and managed a slurred “Hello?”, which was met with brief silence.

“How’re y’ doin’, lad?” Asked the gruff one, and realization dawned over Sami.

“Adrian?” He asked, his tongue still feeling much too thick and head caught between aching and spinning.

“That’s right. Seems as though y’got yerself in a spot of trouble.”

“Yeah,” was all Sami could respond with, unable to just yet elaborate what he’d been through. He at least was able to manage to ask, “How’d you find me?”

“M’friend here was the one t’help with that.” Adrian’s voice grew closer, and against Sami’s arm was the softness of feathers. 

“Your...friend?” Asked Sami, terribly confused. He hadn’t met another person in the forest; perhaps there’d been other ravens that Adrian knew and had kept watch?

Adrian cleared his throat, seeming to stall for time. At last, with some hesitation, he responded with, “Sami, Ah’d like you t' meet...hm. This...is Finn.”


	5. Chapter 5

The crackling fire was the only sound that permeated the otherwise silent camp.

Finn had been careful to keep his actions to a minimum, despite how badly he wanted to move around since he’d started to lose the feeling in his leg where Sami’s head rested. And of course, there was the dagger in his side that he needed to be taken into consideration with as well. At this point, as long as the blade didn’t puncture any internal organs he’d be fine. Otherwise, by now the blood should have coagulated enough that he wouldn’t hemorrhage out.

Still, it was impressive that something a human produced had managed to pierce the hyde in the first place, which meant either toxin or a rite was in effect. And ultimately, something had to be done before the now frailer _shifted_ flesh became infected.

He looked down and observed Sami’s face contort and his glassed-over eyes struggle to focus. Adrian hopped from foot-to-foot, an unusual nervous energy radiating off of him. They’d already conversed about and decided that even after he fully recovered, Sami wouldn’t pose any threat to them: he was simply a man, and bore no sigil or artefact that suggested he had malicious intent. It’d just been so long since they had to deal with a human in their territory that feeling some level of uncertainty was to be expected.

“Finn?” Sami finally croaked out. Finn and Adrian flashed a look at one another, but their attention was immediately brought back when Sami visibly shuddered continued with, “I knew a Finn one time.”

“It’s a common name,” Finn responded curtly and ignored the way he was being stared at by both parties present. Silence enveloped them once more, so dense that it could be cut into. For the briefest instance, mortification overtook Sami’s features before he at last closed his eyes. 

“Oh,” whispered Sami, sounding small and deflated, but said nothing further. Finn didn’t know what else to say or do in this situation, torn between needing to continue to fulfill his duties to the forest and tending to the intruder that, for all intents and purposes, should have been dead by now. 

And yet, the intruder -no, Sami- had _lived_. Was _still_ alive.

When they’d pulled Sami’s half frozen body out of iced-over the pond and Finn had shifted from one form to the other, Adrian remarked that it seemed as though he’d seen a ghost. Finn had shot back that they saw ghosts all of the time and busied himself with starting a fire and getting Sami out of his wet clothing so that he wouldn’t die. They worked together to get him wrapped up in a blanket found in the saddlebags of the frantic reindeer that Adrian managed to get to settle down. When Adrian grumbled out “y’know what Ah meant”, Finn shut the conversation down altogether by showing off his new wound. 

It’d been just enough to avoid questions altogether and to pretend he was focused on his injury. He couldn’t just yet begin to articulate about the very specific scents that practically assaulted his nostrils and were associated with something from a lifetime ago. Even as Finn slowly pieced together mental and emotional fragments that had long been buried and now sat unearthed, he couldn’t begin to present his findings or really even understand them. So instead he sat quietly and watched carefully, his hand grasping Sami’s so that he could offer a small amount of body heat and comfort, and all the while still considering him to be an intruder.

“There’ve been Sowers about,” Adrian warned, his voice dragging Finn out of introspection and back to reality. “A pair of’em pursued us earlier. We ought to take shelter when we can.”

“Is it that time o’ year already?” Finn bitterly chuckled, but Adrian was far less amused. “Alright then.” He nodded in seriousness and gestured at Sami, “Will he be fine to move?” 

“Let’s see if we can get ‘im fed first.”

“He probably won’t be able to chew,” Finn pointed out as Adrian made his way over to the fire and attempted to snatch a piece of the rabbit that cooked over it. “You’ll burn yerself, mate.”

“Well what would **you** do?!” Adrian snarled back, clearly bristled by the suggestion.

“Can y’get the deer to trust us enough to load him onnit?” They both looked over at the reindeer that firmly stayed put several paces away from them.

“Could try. What about th’ food?”

“We’ll just take it back with us?” Offered Finn. “It’s cooked, it won’t spoil.”

“His name is ‘Loovah’,” Sami weakly chimed in. At some point his grip on Finn’s hand had increased, and instinctively Finn squeezed back. 

“Can y’get him to come over?” Finn kept his voice low, and felt Sami nod. “Give it a shot then?”

“Sure.” Sami proceeded to struggle with sitting up for a few moments and vehemently declined help. Finn eventually ignored the protests, placed his free hand between Sami’s shoulderblades, and gently helped push him upward. There was a hint of defiance in his tone when Sami, now upright while being assisted, said, “I could have done it on my own.”

“Just get th’ deer over here,” Finn snorted, ignoring the indignant _hmph_.

“Loovah!” Sami cupped his mouth, and sure enough the deer’s head popped up from where it’d been grazing. It hadn’t yet entered the camp, still wearily eyeing Finn and grunting in agitation, and whined back at Sami. 

“Don’t think it trusts us yet,” noted Finn.

“Loovah, it’s fine. C’mere.” Sami extended a hand in Loovah’s direction, but quickly dropped it and cursed when he couldn’t move again.

“Hey, easy now. Don’t overexert yourself,” Finn chided, feeling Sami’s full weight pushing back against his palm. 

“I’m alright, really.” As Sami spoke, his words begun to slur. Finn moved the hand that was now pinned between his own chest and Sami’s back. Unease coursed through his veins at the proximity to another person, as chilling as the water that they’d pulled Sami out of and unfortunately not able to be shaken off by fire and broth. However, he kept his composure and looked directly into the eyes of the reindeer.

“Listen up, fella,” his voice elevated and Loovah’s ears turned towards him, giving him undivided attention. “Yer a smart one, aren’t’cha? Well you can either stay put while we take ‘im or you can help us out, but we absolutely must be off.”

The reindeer grunted at him while stomping a hoof several times, but the bluff died almost as soon as it started and he slowly trotted over. Finn stayed perfectly still, not wanting to add any more stress to the situation they’d all found themselves in. It wasn’t surprising when Loovah kept some distance even after getting closer, his head low and antlers posed for potential combat. Finn sighed and shook his head, fully empathizing. “I’m sorry for earlier.”

“About what?” Groaned Sami, and Finn was sputtered as he attempted to come up with any sort of explanation. He looked to Adrian for help, and the raven hurried over.

“Sami, try not to talk. We need you t’save yer energy, lad,” Adrian’s tone was soothing and strange to hear, but Finn gave him a look of gratitude. As Finn carefully begun to stand Sami up, Adrian mused out loud, “Y’know, this isn’t very ideal.”

“Oh yeah? What part’s that?” Finn indulged, preparing for more misanthropic observations.

“Well, all of it, certainly. Have y’ ever ridden horseback before?”

“Nah, but I planned to just...I dunno, get’im up there? And then I’d guide th’ deer.”

“His name’s Loovah,” Adrian corrected while Finn rolled his eyes and adjusted the blanket so that it was draped over Sami’s shoulders. “Have some manners, would ya? An’ throwin’ an unconscious body atop a mount’s no good.”

“I’m not unconscious,” Sami spoke up.

“Ah, hear that! He’s **not** unconscious!” Declared Finn, much to Adrian’s blatant chagrin. “Now go gather up his clothing. See if they’re still soaked.”

“M-my clothing?” Much more alert now, Sami looked down at himself then tried to turn around and look at Finn, who ticked in annoyance. “What-”

“You can’t wear wet clothing when yer cold. You’ll die,” Finn plainly stated while Sami nodded dumbly along. 

“Still damp!” Adrian shouted from over by the fire, and Finn could feel Sami tense up. While humans tended to be modest creatures, he was resolute that survival should take precedence in almost every situation and couldn’t fathom why Sami now clung tighter to the blanket. For a split second, he considered telling Adrian to take charge since this _was_ inadvertently his fault; there wasn’t much time to spare if Sowers were running amok, he could argue, but he knew that over the years his friend was owed at least this much.

“Sami,” Finn gently started, but Sami didn’t ease up. “Could you lean on Loovah for support?” Again Sami quietly nodded and complied. Finn tore the fabric around where the dagger’s petite handle protruded from to extend the hole, and then slipped off his tunic. He tapped on Sami’s shoulder to get his attention, and extended the garment towards him once he turned around. “Here.”

“I…” Sami stared at the black fabric, uncertainty all over his face. Subtlety was not Finn’s strong suit, nor was patience when threats loomed just over the horizon, but he bit back any hastily-made comments for the sake of moving forward.

“Take this.” The tunic was now thrust at Sami with insistence, and with some hesitancy he let go of the blanket and took it. Even while he held it, Sami only blinked at the worn fabric, so Finn imitated the motions of dressing with his hands and arms to illustrate his point. “You...put it on. You’ve dressed yourself before, yeah?”

“Right,” responded Sami glacially. He cast his gaze upwards and at Finn, yet never quite made eye contact. The wide eyed and slow-to-respond characteristics had Finn briefly concerned that Sami was Haunted, and with that in mind he began to outwardly examine for any other symptoms. Sami’s voice suddenly cut through Finn’s thoughts, free of early slurring and the clearest he’d heard it yet. “Could you uh...turn around? Please?” 

Wordlessly, Finn obliged with arms folded across his chest. He watched Adrian continue to attempt to pick at the spit roast, eventually wandering over himself to assist. The articles of clothing they’d hung up to dry now sat in a discarded mess on the ground, so he picked those up and shook them free of debris, then set them atop a nearby stump. Next he lifted the branch that had been speared through the rabbit, pinched off one of the rear legs and tossed that at Adrian’s feet, warning that it was still hot.

“Not that you’d know much about that,” Adrian jeered playfully, but the remark caused a peculiar ache that Finn would dare not bring up. He glanced down at his fingertips, seeing where the flesh was light singed but unable to actually feel it. While it was mostly a useful trait to not be subjected to the sensitivity of temperature extremes when one was constantly surrounded by both ice and fire, he hadn’t asked for such an ability, either. Or the lack of one. Regardless, he chastised himself that it was an absurd thing to be distraught over, so instead of dwelling he turned his attention back over to Sami and Loovah. 

“Are you ready now?” he asked.

“I am,” Sami responded, the listless tone from earlier resurfacing. Exhaustion must have taken a horrible toll on him, so Finn wasted no moments in returning to prepare him for the next leg of the journey. He walked around to Loovah’s other side, where Sami clung to the reindeer’s neck and was barely able to keep himself upright. The black tunic was successfully put on and mostly fit, but there were areas fabric of that would have draped loosely off of Finn that clung to Sami and looked ridiculous.

“We’ve gotta go,” Finn started to explain and maneuvered so that Sami’s weight rested mostly on him. “It’s not safe out here so close to nightfall.”

“How can you tell?” asked Sami, his head lolling against Finn’s shoulder.

“I just can,” Finn retorted, and Sami didn’t press the issue any further. “How much strength do you have left? Can you get up on th’ deer?”

“Might need a lift,” Sami answered honestly, which Finn appreciated. “If you can do that while holding his head still…” Each word now came out labored, and Finn knew that time was not a friend to either of them. He stuffed the rabbit meat into a saddlebag and the clothing into another, then slung the blanket over the saddle as an extra layer of much needed cushioning. Following Sami’s mumbled instructions, the reins were grabbed with one hand and the other was used for Sami to step onto and use as a boost; thankfully, it only took two attempts total to get him up there. Sami swayed momentarily, as if he was losing consciousness, but he managed to steady himself. Adrian flapped over and perched on one of Loovah’s antlers, announcing that the fire was put out. 

“Great. Keep an eye on ‘im, say something if he starts to doze off,” directed Finn. He slowly began to lead Loovah towards the hut, and he was grateful that the reindeer put up no resistance. Occasionally Finn felt something brush up against his hair and head, and he soon realized that it was Sami’s fingers loosely grazing him. “Sami? Y’still with me?”

“Yeah,” Sami mumbled. Adrian was still silent so Finn was not yet so concerned about the way he led them all. Switching which hand held onto the reins, Finn used his newly freed one to take hold of Sami’s lingering fingers.

“Stay awake,” Finn warned.

“Mhm,” hummed Sami in confirmation. They wandered through unavoidable brush and thickets, heavy with thorns and bramble. Finn kept his eyes towards the canopy and scanned the branches, suspicious of what may be hiding up there. If he knew for certain that it would be safe to shift, there wouldn’t be a single thing to worry about; but Adrian had posed a few troubling theories about the blade, not only over how it managed to puncture the hyde, but also what potential after effects it could have if they so much as chipped the handle. It was agreed that it’d be safer for Finn to wait until it could be removed safely.

For now, they were vulnerable at worst and on the defense at best. Every twinkle of light that he’d normally have written off for the glow of a gnat or the shimmer of moss phlox could very well be spores of a territorial Sower. Adrian had once said that in all the time he’d inhabited the forest, this ruthless frenzy that had surged in recent years was the first he’d seen of it, but it was not the first instance such an occurrence had been recorded. Glances towards Adrian were frequent, and while the raven seemed equally as vigilant in monitoring their surroundings, he also didn’t appear to be anymore perturbed than usual.

Below their feet the earth had gotten so soft that they started to sink with each step, but accompanied with it was the sound of gurgling water and an overwhelming sense of relief. Finn stopped at the bank of a brook and watched the water spill over and rush around large rocks that jut out from the surface, mentally mapping out the safest way to cross. He led them a few more paces upstream, where the current was shallow and flowed gently. Resistance from Loovah over crossing the stream was a minor inconvenience that Finn had anticipated; he wasn’t prepared for when he tried to free his hand from Sami’s, and the other man jolted into a sudden alertness and refused to let go. 

“Hey, I need this,” Finn attempted to explain, but met with noises of protest. As he continued to try to reason, a fat drop of water dropped on his nose, then another on his shoulder. He turned his attention to the brook and saw numerous ripples form and stretch out in rapid succession. While rainstorms were commonplace during this season, he groaned at the timing. Sami’s grip finally loosened as a raindrop struck hard against his hand, and Finn took the opportunity to take his own back. He thought to rest it against Loovah’s body so that he’d have a way to keep balance, but elected to place it on Sami’s shin to better keep the other man firmly planted. “See? I’m still here.”

Sami only nodded in response, but too lax for Finn’s liking. With a deep breath, he took the first steps into the water and firmly tugged the Loovah’s reins. Whether the reindeer understood the urgency or was too exhausted to put up a fight, he dutifully followed. The struggle to wade through the brook was minimal as Finn cleared all thoughts to press on ahead. He nearly slipped only once, and was glad for Sami’s leg to cling to as he steadied himself. 

“Are you alright?” Finn immediately asked, and he received yet another nod. They made it through the running water with no further incidents, but upon reaching the other side a crack of thunder made everyone jump. A moment of panic seized Finn as he thought about Loovah throwing Sami off, but aside initial shock, the reindeer kept his composure. 

Rain poured heavier now, dampening Finn’s sense of smell just enough so that the trek to the hut was delayed as he was forced to rely on other senses to navigate. By the time they’d made it to the door, Sami had gone completely faint and started to slump off, but due to Adrian’s squawking he was caught in time by Finn before crashing to the ground. There were sarcastic quips made about no longer having to worry about Sowers as Finn and Adrian hurried to get a fire started in the hearth and Sami warm again by laying him in the bed. Finn produced another tunic and redressed Sami, mindful of the reaction from earlier and careful to keep the blanket covering him throughout as much of the process as possible.

“Where’s the deer?” Finn asked after finishing tucking Sami in. It took a few seconds for Adrian to respond as he wiped the smoke from off of his beak, the stench of sulfur diffusing from off of his feathers and permeating the room.

“ _OI OI OI_!” yelled Adrian, shaking his head and dispelling smoldering grey curls that continue to emit from his mouth. “Ah’ll never be used tah that.” 

“Well, thanks fer gettin’ the fire started.” Finn waited for theatrics to die down while Adrian hacked and preened.

“Thanks for lettin’ it go out.” Adrian shook the remained rain from his feathers and poofed up, the usually proud and dignified corvid an utter mess. “Loovah’s in with y’r birds.” 

“Great. I’m gonna get the bags offa him, can you fix up more broth?”

“Who’s got the hands here, mate?” sneered Adrian at Finn, who was already half-way out the door. “Sure sure sure, jus’ leave it all tah me, y’bastard.”

To the side of the hut was a horse stall that only until recently had sat unused for decades. Wild fowl had moved in several seasons ago, so Finn had reinforced the structure to the best of his ability and dedicated enough time around the skittish birds that they were at last used to him. Adrian had ridiculed him over it a countlessly, but that stopped entirely the morning that Finn produced a few fresh eggs that he’d managed to collect without so much as a peck or scratch on his arms. It wasn’t exactly a common occurrence that he’d go unscathed, but Adrian didn’t need to be informed of that, either.

Loovah’s antlers could be seen sticking out from and opening in the stall, and rivulets formed from the rainwater traced along and dripped off of them. The reindeer barely acknowledged Finn beyond keeping an eye on him, and didn’t seem to care that some braver chickens had made his back into a perch.

“T’ank you for your cooperation earlier,” Finn softy expressed while he loosened the saddlebags. “I _am_ awfully sorry about when we met, I overreacted. But your owner will be taken care of. Gonna get him better.”

A hand was extended towards Loovah’s muzzle as some kind of truce, but the reindeer turned his head and Finn frowned; realistically, he knew that it was a fair reaction and couldn’t take offense. With all of the saddlebags now gathered over his shoulder, he took his leave and returned to the hut. The contents were dumped out onto a bench and rifled through until Sami’s clothing and the rabbit meat were both located. Finn removed his own soaked trousers and stockings, having to practically peel them off of his skin, and all damp garments were hung up near the fire to dry. The meat was divided up into smaller parts, a few tossed towards Adrian.

“Is it ready?” Finn asked, tilting his head in the direction of the kettles that were suspended over the fire.

“Ought to be,” Adrian answered between tearing and swallowing his portion of rabbit. “He’s been making some noise, though. Careful with him.”

“Right.” Steaming broth was ladled into a bowl and Finn took a seat at the edge of the bed, setting it down next to him. He watched Sami’s face twist in anguish which didn’t match the other symptoms of what currently ailed him. Attempts were made to stir Sami to consciousness by quietly repeating his name, but was only met with soundless gasps. Not wanting to startle him in the event that he was experiencing a nightmare, Finn gingerly touched Sami’s face, resting palm against cheek and awaited any response at all. When nothing came of that, Finn withdrew and lifted the spoon from the bowl, blowing on it before holding it under Sami’s nose. Every passing moment felt like an entire season, but it’d been worth the wait to see Sami’s nose scrunch up and his eyes slowly fluttered open.

The spoon was brought to Sami’s mouth, yet it was still intrinsically obvious that he had lapsed back into an incoherent state. Finn tipped the spoon just enough so that the liquid would reach the tongue without going any further, and gauged Sami’s level of functionality. More moments passed until Sami’s throat bobbed, signaling that he had the ability to swallow, and after it was evident that the liquid was not entering his airways more broth was given. About halfway through, Finn asked, “Are you hungry? Adrian told me that you might not’ve eaten much in a few days.”

“Yes,” Sami managed to rasp out.

“Think you can chew, though?” 

“I-” Sami concentrated, but his jaw stayed mostly still and he shook his head in resignation since words were evidently too difficult as well. Almost like it’d been cued, Sami’s stomach rumbled so loudly that it rivaled the thunder itself. Misery was written all over his weary face, and he sunk further into the blanket and pillow with his eyes closed.

A wave of nausea roiled through Finn, but he shook it off and got up. The bowl was set on the floor and he walked over to the bench, picking up the rabbit and tearing off a sizeable piece, then brought it back to the bedside. Before he sat down again, he could see Sami peaking out from under the covers; his eyes so wide, gaze unreadable.

Sami put up no resistance to the food that’d been manducated on his behalf, parting his own lips as Finn drew close, and swallowing what had been given. This was repeated a few times over, until Sami shakily whispered “no more” and Finn ceased altogether. 

“You’ll need more water soon,” Finn pointed out after silence grew thick between them. It wasn’t as though Sami needed these explanations, he’d probably be able to figure all of this out on his own, or at the very least go along with whatever was done to him. _Survival is always paramount_ , Finn recalled being told by his mentor countless times, and it was a lesson he’d taken to heart; someone’s comfort wouldn’t matter if they died. But something back at the campsite had gnawed at him, the open-faced apprehension and vulnerability that’d been displayed was a kind of bravery on its own considering that Sami was no more than a wounded creature in hostile territory.

A second wave of nausea hit, and Finn could taste bile. The side of his torso was inflamed, and a glance down at the wound confirmed that it was as raw and red as it felt. He slid off of the bed and sat on the floor, resting his head against its frame to combat the onset dizziness. 

“Finn?” Adrian cautiously called out.

“We’ve got to get this outta me.” Finn squeezed his eyes shut. “Now.”

“Very well,” Adrian resigned. There was a brief racket of jars and pots being opened, and as this went on, Finn made his way to the fireside and lay on a rug that sat in front of it. Once he was settled, Adrian landed next to him and set down a makeshift bindle. “Ah suppose you don’t care to hear about how dang’rous this may be?”

“No worse than leaving it in,” hissed Finn as the pain began to throb. The pungent scent of vinegar hit his nostrils, and he braced himself for the harsh sting as it was poured onto the entry wound. 

“For what it’s worth,” Adrian began while he examined the handle closely. “Don’t think a ritual’s been cast on it. That means we can remove it without risk of backfiring. However...”

“What?” Finn shivered at the slimy texture of a leech that had been set onto his skin.

“Ah’ve an idea as to where this came from.” Adrian’s tone was hushed. “Can’t discuss it now.”

Opening an eye, Finn looked over at Sami. The insinuation was...obvious, to say the least. “You don’t really think-”

“Don’t know. Let’s not rule anything out, though.”


	6. Chapter 6

Horrid ringing clamored in Sami’s ears, louder than the bells at the temple, and reverberated off of the walls of his skull while spots to formed in front of his eyes. The pitch continued to escalate, and he wondered if this was the permanent fate of his hearing. Or was he finally dying? The pain was indescribable, the noise physically drilling into his mind and causing it to cave in.

And then, nothing.

The spots remained, though now fading, but there was a total absence of noise. He tried to recall anything at all about what had transpired, but fragments of distorted sensations were all that he could conjure. It was too draining, so instead he focused on the immediate surroundings to the best of his ability. Everything was incredibly warm, but not uncomfortably so. Orange light bathed one part of this room while long shadows were cast across the rest, sometimes dancing. He lay on a soft surface, tucked in and secure. When had he gotten into a bed? There were no sharp hunger pangs, something he was not used to being without. 

It was the aroma that overwhelmed him the most; at first only he could only smell smoke, but that was quickly overpowered by dried botanicals he recognized and reminded him of the medicinal storage room back at the temple. Of his conversation with Bayley and of what he’d left behind. Of Adrian and the proposition made. Of _Finn_.

Sami examined his surroundings, moving slowly since his head still ached. Above him he could see herbs that’d been tied and were suspended from a support beam that stretched across the entire room. An assortment of curiosities and clay jars also littered the beam, varying in shape and size and too numerous to try to count despite his best efforts. He traced it it to where it met the hearth with numerous iron kettles strung over the flames, some with opaque fluids dribbling down the side and dripping into the fire below and making it hiss. 

As his attention drifted, it soon landed in front of the hearth to where a man lay stretched out, accompanied by a raven -no, Adrian. And the man was...Finn? Blurred memories of the forest played out: his body fluctuating between fire and ice, falling until it’d been grounded by hands from above. A face watched him with genuine concern, he’d seen it himself as he seized up. Was it real? It couldn’t have been, it was far too ethereal to exist, and Sami could not recall a single being that would regard him with such consideration in their gaze.

But he saw them both look over at him, their mouths moving yet no sound coming out. The man had the same face that loomed over him in the forest; that face was indeed real, and it belonged to-

-to Finn. Sami was certain of it. He wanted to cry out or reach towards him, to both of them, but couldn’t move. Finn’s eyes met his own, and Sami’s pulse quickened as he fought the urge to turn away. There was still concern on Finn’s face, his brow heavy and lips forming a thin line, but the expression was different, sharper. Shuddering at the scrutiny, Sami gave in to his discomfort and focused elsewhere, briefly lingering down the undressed torso and then snapped back up to the ceiling.

No matter how much he willed it, sleep did not come to claim Sami when he wanted it as a scapegoat. Instead, he was forced to lay still and wait for whatever came next, choking back the anxiety of having no control whatsoever. To pass the time he identified the herbs dangling above his head and medicinal uses they had. A loud **pop** interrupted the impromptu study session, followed by more as well as the clanging of a kettle’s metal lid, and he realized that his hearing had returned more or less. A soft “I’ll be fine” caught Sami’s attention, but he dare not look over again to the duo on the floor.

“Ah don’t need to watch after two of ya.” Adrian’s snarl came through in perfect clarity.

“Y’won’t have to,” Finn replied, his voice strained. After more grumbling, there was a minor amount of commotion: a drawn out and sharp inhale, footsteps, liquid sloshing, more footsteps. A weight settled at his side, causing the bed to creak and the mattress to dip in slightly. Without warning, the blanket was pulled down far enough so that a hand could lay atop his chest, and Sami could practically hear his own heart pound in his ears. “Hey,” breathed Finn, taking his hand back. Reflexively, Sami looked over to where he sat on the bed, but kept his attention fixed at Finn’s bare shoulder since it was an innocuous enough area. “How’re you?”

“Better, I think,” Sami answered honestly. His body no longer felt like it was burning nor freezing, his head ached less, and his jaw muscles were not so tense. “Can’t really move yet, but. Better.”

“I’ve got more broth for you.” Finn held up a spoon, as if to demonstrate the truth of his statement. “Adrian mixed a wee bit o’ valerian in this dose. Said you’d know what that was.”

“Sure,” nodded Sami, already parting open his lips to accept it. The spoon was brought to his mouth, and though he did his best to try sitting up, he hadn’t succeeded at all. Spoonfuls were eagerly swallowed, until the bottom of the bowl was scraped and Finn informed him that there was no more left. 

Along with salt and herbs, the familiar taste of evergreen from the valerian lingered in Sami’s mouth, and he could feel the sedative start to work. “Y’know-” he yawned, “-used to take valerian a lot when I was younger because of my shoulder, but I built up an immunity to it. Well, at least for some time, anyway. Glad to know that it works again.”

“What’s wrong with your shoulder?” Finn asked as he set the bowl onto the floor.

“It’s a long story,” mumbled Sami, suddenly self-conscious.

“It’s a long night,” Finn replied.

“Well, I’ve told it so many times before…” Sami trailed off, exhaling. “Stop me if you don’t want to hear anymore, alright?”

“I’m listening.” The gentle lilt in Finn’s voice lulled Sami back into a sense of security.

“When I was younger, I was in a carriage that crashed into the side of a mountain. My friend and I were both taken from our village, and the men that abducted us tried to go through a pass to reach their destination faster. Or. At least that’s what I overheard them arguing about.”

“What caused the crash?” 

“Not sure, but something definitely chased us. My friend said it was probably bandits, but I never believed that. Whatever it was tore the horse and the men to pieces. There were limbs everywhere, blood all over the cliffs and path...it was awful. There was another boy with us, too. He-” Sami stopped himself, the air leaving his lungs like it always did when he reached this part; the scene which had caused nightmares and panic attacks since childhood, the scene that nearly drove him towards the edges of despair time and time again.

“Sami?”

“He was thrown out. Fell over a cliff.” Sami’s bottom lip quivered. “He saved me and then he was gone. That...I think I told you earlier that I knew a Finn, right?”

“Back in the forest, yeah.”

“That was him.” Sami shut his eyes. “That was him.”

“So what then happened?” A hand settled on top of the blanket that was just above Sami’s thigh, the feeling strong enough to ground Sami and settle his nerves before he devolved into a trembling mess. 

“After that and the crash? Kev...my friend and I were stranded in the mountains for a few days; two lost, barefoot children wandering around aimlessly. I couldn’t use my left arm for anything, it hurt so badly. We didn’t sleep. My friend tried to eat some berries he’d found and then got really sick, so we didn’t eat, either. I remember being almost delirious and said something about wishing the crash killed me, and my friend got really mad. He yelled at me and said that someone died saving me, and the least I could do is _try_ , otherwise it was a waste.” A dry sob made it out of Sami. “And...y’know, sometimes I think he’s not wrong.”

“About what?” Asked Finn.

“That it _was_ a waste.” The quiet that followed was something Sami was used to by now. His life had been full of moments that he’d make a casual remark about the self-worth that he lacked; going too far without realizing it, but needing an outlet so desperately that he’d crack morbid jokes at his own expense. He’d get shocked or sympathetic expressions, or a hushed _don’t talk like that_. It wasn’t meant to make anyone uncomfortable, and for the most part he was content to play the role of a cheerful do-gooder to not usurp the peace. 

But as always, the deeper he buried the more agonizing thoughts and memories, the stronger they were when they’d inevitably claw to the surface and unearth themselves.

“I’m sorry,” Sami apologized when enough time had passed and nothing else had been said.

“It’s fine,” Finn’s voice rumbled low. “Y’don’t have to go on if y’don’t want.”

“It’s just...I’m so tired.” Again Sami yawned, his body feeling heavier than iron.

“Sleep, then.” Finn offered. 

And sleep he did.

* * *

In over 20 years, Sami had never gotten a restful night’s sleep; in fact, he may have never experienced such a thing at all. Whether he was jerked awake due to his shoulder, to nightmares, or to a grossly overactive hair trigger instinct, respite was always a stranger.

Yet, when a sunbeam crossed over his face and stirred him from slumber, it was gradual. Pleasant, even. Muscles and bones did not hold the stiffness nor the dull ache he’d grown accustomed to over the past few days, and he was able to lift his arm with little resistance. Warm prismatic tints formed from yellow, tan, orange, and green flickered across the back of his hand. His eyes followed the light to the window that the colors filtered through, and saw translucent stones that had been arranged together to form an abstract mosaic. The other windows in the hut were identical in their construction method, and it reminded Sami of autumn.

And then, it dawned on Sami that he was no longer submerged in total darkness.

“Y’r awake,” Adrian’s gruff voice got Sami’s attention. The raven had perched himself on the back of a chair, and on the table in front of him was the satchel and an open book.

“Yeah I...I honestly can’t remember the last time I wasn’t awake prior to the sunrise.” Sami rubbed at his beard and lightly scratched the sideburns. 

“Hm.” Adrian turned his attention back to the book, sticking his beak between the pages. “Anyway, some eggs and bread’ve been cooked, if ya can manage a bite.” 

“Great!” Taking his time to ensure that he was stable enough to walk, Sami made his way over to the table and took a seat next to Adrian. There was a dish that appeared as though it’d been set aside specifically for him: a thick piece of bread, a baked egg on top of that with green onions and mushrooms, and a soft wedge of cheese to the side. His stomach growled at the sight of it, and impulsively he took a bite so large that he nearly choked on it.

“Easy lad,” warned Adrian, still not looking up. Sami chewed slowly, his eyes watering until he was able to swallow freely. The next bite was much, _much_ smaller. “Y’ve just come back from the brink of freezing. How’re ya?”

“Groggy,” Sami answered while he polished off the last breadcrumb. “I mean, uh...better than I’ve felt recently, Everything still hurts, though. A lot.”

“Might be like that for a few days.” A page was flipped over. Sami looked over and recognized that it was the journal.

“Can I ask you about that?” Sami’s tone was hopeful, but he could see the feathers along Adrian’s shoulders start to bristle.

“No,” Adrian responded curtly.

“You wouldn’t have gotten it back if it wasn’t for me.”

“An’ **yew** woulda drowned if it wasn’t for _me_.” Adrian’s head jerked up and he glared at Sami. They held one another’s gaze for a few moments, until Sami stared back down at his plate and broke off a piece of the cheese. Sighing, Adriah returned to the journal as well. “Look lad, y’ have a lotta questions. And Ah cannot give ya a lotta answers.”

“Alright,” Sami mumbled. He was about to take a bite, but shook his head. “Sooo...is this Finn’s home?”

“Y’re still going t-”

“Yes.” The resolution was firm, and Sami fully expected some kind of snap response but instead Adrian shook his head.

“It’s not Finn’s home.” With a talon, the journal was closed. “At least, he doesn’t own it. Sometimes he stays here, when the moment strikes him.”

“So who owns it? You? And how is there even a house out here?” At this point, Sami started to tick off each question with his fingers.

“Oi oi oi, hold on now. Sami, let me make something perfectly clear right now: things are almost never what they seem around here.”

“That’s cliché,” Sami immediately retorted.

“Aye. It’s true, though. An’ for as much as Ah’d love t’ take credit for making y’r life more of’a hassle, Ah cannot. There are forces that Ah’m bound to, promises made that Ah cannot break, an’ so on.” 

“Adrian, are you actually a raven?” Sami’s face scrunched up as he considered what answers he could maybe draw from this conversation.

“Not quite,” Adrian laughed, coming out like a hearty caw.

“Are you like...a-” Sami now whispered “-a demon?”

“What’re ya hushed up for now?” Another caw, much to Sami’s dismay. “Not that, either, no.”

“So what, then? What are you” There was a long pause, Adrian’s glee now having died down. 

“A relic, Ah suppose.” Adrian’s shoulders rose and then fell. “Anyway, y’r trousers ought to be dried. Y’might want to put them on and let Loovah out to feed.”

“Loovah!” Sami exclaimed and hurriedly sat up, simultaneously scanning himself as he processed everything else Adrian had informed him of. “This...isn’t my tunic.”

“Finn won’t mind ya borrowing that for a bit,” assured Adrian. 

“Great,” nodded Sami, mostly to himself. He gathered up a few articles of clothing that were hung by the fire and attempted to discreetly pull them on.

“Y’r much more shy than Finn,” Adrian absently commented, and Sami felt his face flush. “Not that it matters. It’s a nice change, though. For me.”

Sami nervously laughed. “I just feel caught off guard, I guess? I mean, it’s not every day that I nearly drown in frozen water and, uh, are rescued. So _thoroughly_?”

“Y’nearly died,” Adrian pointedly stated; at first his voice gruff with agitation, but then he cawed long and loudly. “But it sure **was** cold, lad!”

Not wanting to provide any more ammunition, Sami finished dressing without further response. He stepped outside, caught off guard by how different this area of the forest was compared to where he had traversed. Here, the canopy was thin enough to for light to penetrate it; combined with heavy fog that blanketed the ground, everything irradiated shades of silver and white. Aside the gurgling water of a brook nearby, it was eerily quiet.

“Loovah?” Sami softly called, feeling silly for not asking where, or if, the reindeer was housed. A high-pitched whine quickly responded, and Sami followed it to the side of the hut. He was surprised to see the stall, as well as the chickens that peacefully pecked and scratched about the garden. The reindeer stuck his head out of the opening and excitedly grunted, and Sami practically tripped over his own feet to get to his friend. He wrapped his arms around the thick neck, burying his face in the fur and silently weeping while Loovah attempted to nibble at the tunic. After repeating “you’re safe” several times, Sami let go, but not before giving a hearty scratch.

“And you’re a little stuck,” Sami remarked out loud, and he wondered how Loovah even managed to get into the structure in the first place. Through careful maneuvering and coordination, he was able to eventually free the reindeer. Loovah enthusiastically bucked about, then trotted around Sami and nudged against him. However, the joyous reunion was cut short as soon as lichen was spotted on a nearby tree, and the reindeer’s true loyalty was on full display.

As Loovah ate, Sami took his time to soak in their surroundings. The fog had grown so dense that if they so much as stepped away from the yard, they risked becoming lost in the sea of fern and tree silhouettes that stretched far into the horizon. It had started to envelope the hut, rising above the grass-covered rooftop and mingling with the smoke that billowed out from the chimney. He was reminded of the village he’d lived in as a child, before the abduction and the temple and the city; a pang of guilt needled under his skin, and he wondered how the strange man that’d raised him at the orphanage fared.

He followed the reindeer’s lead and wandered to the brook, drinking alongside one another. When he’d drank his fill, Sami leaned back, stretching his arms out behind him and rested on his hands. There was a stillness that hung heavy in the air, a tranquility that did not exist in the part of the forest he’d traversed. Loovah finished his own drink and lackadaisically moved back to Sami’s side, at first gently nudging with his muzzle and then laying down atop the wet patch of grass they both shared. 

Sami had slumped over on Loovah and rested there. He remained awake, and though he enjoyed the peace around them, he did not feel like he was a part of it. Soon, that very proximity made him uneasy, and he stood. The fog had gotten thicker, he was sure of it.

“Loovah, will you be alright here?” Sami asked, and the reindeer only stared up at him and twitched his ears. There was nothing that alluded to predators being in their immediate area, but past experience had Sami on edge; regardless, he knew that Loovah would be able to handle his own, or at the very least raise alarm that something was wrong. He laughed at his own neurosis and surveyed the area around them to quell his own nerves.

The hair rose on the back of his neck when, across the brook and many paces away, a silhouette materialized among the trees. At first Sami thought that it was lone deer, for he could see protrusions identical to a wide set of antlers that stuck out from the head. But it turned, revealing not only that it was humanoid, but it also produced bright blue lights that pierced through the fog. The longer that Sami stared, despite his better judgement, the more details he could make out: strange dots and markings, the twisted up corners of what resembled a wicked mouth, and a row of terrible jagged shapes that seemed to be teeth. Before he could register what he had witnessed, it wandered away and completely vanished from sight.

Vigorously shaking his head, Sami peered hard and could not see anything that deviated from the expanse of fauna. He looked to Loovah and saw that the reindeer was unperturbed. Long ago, he’d been taught that one of the major reasons the forest lured victims in and left them Haunted -or worse- was due to the mirages it produced. Most people agreed that it was due to the demons that dwelled there, although Sami had heard a few elderly people insist that the illusions were from the power of the forest itself. 

Either way, what he’d seen certainly _felt_ real.

“Y’seem rattled, lad,” Adrian’s familiar sneer came from above his head, unexpected and causing Sami to nearly jump right out of his skin. The corvid fluttered down and landed at Sami’s feet, his once wounded wing functioning as normal.

“The bandages! Adrian, how on-” gasped Sami, but was cut off.

“Ah’m better.”

“No, but _how_?”

“ **Ack**! If Ah had t’answer that ev’ry time Ah did anything at all…” As the raven indignantly squawked, Sami rolled his eyes. He suspected that the melodramatic display in front of him, complete with robust wing flapping, was ultimately to annoy him, so he kept to himself and let it play out. Eventually, Adrian’s ruffled feathers smoothed out and he settled down. “Anyway,” he cleared his throat, “since y’ve gone and consumed all me water, care t’refill it?”

“Right,” Sami nodded. “Right, I’ll do that. Where’s the pail?”

“Just inside th’ doorway.”

“Is that where it’s usually kept?” It was a very simple question, and was met with a very simple answer; simple enough that Sami now had an opening to work with. He fetched the water that’d been requested of him, and once it was brought back inside and set down to Adrian’s liking, Sami asked another simple question: “Do you need more firewood?”

Adrian looked up quickly, as though he’d been caught off guard. “Actually, yes. Behind th’stall’s a woodpile, take from that.”

Again, Sami cheerfully obliged, going so far as to stack them neatly aside the hearth and keeping the flame stoked. He made a comment about how the pile was lean and offered his services to chop some more wood, which was apparently a most agreeable suggestion. Before he’d taken off, he was firmly instructed to only cut at the logs that had already fallen and to leave any living trees standing. 

With hatchet in his possession, he went about the mundane task of gathering and clumsily chopping pieces of firewood. It reminded him of when he first arrived at Alfir temple: after they mended his broken body the best they could, there’d been whispers of sending him and Kevin off to an orphanage in the nearby city. Desperate to stay in a single place and terrified to travel, he was persistent in taking on odd jobs to be of use; the end result was that he was given room and board all the way into adulthood. And if he could utilize the techniques from back then, he could possibly gain trust and knowledge from Adrian soon.

There was no shortage of chores around the hut, and Adrian was always happy to supply a new task. Sami had swept, mopped, dusted, and even helped prepare supper while Adrian’s beak was deep in the journal. Questions were harmless enough, and were mostly kept to small talk. Sami learned that they were near the summit of a mountain and that the fog was actually cloud coverage, that the chickens had not once suffered an attack from predators, and that there was a small fruit orchard nearby. Idyllic, yet isolated.

With attempted subtlety, a few questions were asked about Finn, and Adrian mostly guffawed with a few snarky remarks for good measure; if they were actually friends, it was a strange interpersonal relationship.

Then again, who was he to judge on that particular topic?

Sami was thankful for when the stew was finally ready so that he could intently focus on that, silently praying that his face did not reveal to be nearly as warm as it felt. He’d expected the evening to be quiet, but Adrian was also inquisitive and asked about Sami’s life. Not wanting to waste the chance to give an impression of being trustworthy, as well enjoying having company that for once wasn’t centered around a tavern, Sami was eager to supply answers. He was at first questioned about how he felt, but then was mostly asked about his life. There was a particular fixation on the revelation that he didn’t live at the temple, but rather in the city. What followed were so many questions regarding city life, as though the corvid had never once experienced it; then again, perhaps he hadn’t.

In a way, Sami was flattered. It wasn’t often that anyone took interest in his personal affairs, although admittedly they were mundane at best. He skimmed over the circumstances that led him to the city in the first place and instead explained how he was in the final stages of his apprenticeship and that he currently resided in a spare room above his mentor’s shop. He’d been offered employment once his training was finished, which was mostly due to his limited surgical experience.

“I’m not barber or anything like that,” Sami hastily noted. “I’ve never amputated a limb or pulled teeth or-”

“Y’just help strange creatures as a pastime,” teased Adrian. At first, Sami went to protest, but caught himself and laughed.

“I guess so, huh?” he conceded. There were inquiries that had been oddly specific, but Sami had to remind himself that he wasn’t couldn’t even begin to empathize with what would hold a talking animal’s interest. Something had been asked about the main crops, whether or not rye grew in the area.

“Were you planning to grow some up here?” Sami wondered out loud.

“Nah.” Without warning Adrian was suddenly disinterested; not just with the topic, but the conversation as a whole. “Well. Y’ought’a rest, lad.”

“Right.” As he crawled under the covers and settled in, Sami’s mind poured over every detail to determine what he could have said that caused him to be shut out so abruptly. He concluded that it was nothing unusual from most other interactions that anyone else ever had with him, and cursed himself for not knowing when to quiet down.

Whatever dreadful tension had swelled the previous night was non-existent by the next morning, and Sami chalked it up to being tired. There was a discussion about Sami’s recovery timeline, which should only be mere days away, and what needed to be done following that. Of course, even with the offerings of the hut, Sami did not have the supplies he needed to take the journey he needed in a hostile territory; even if he were to risk it, he didn’t have the sample for Loovah to track.

Trying not to succumb to frustration, Sami kept himself busy with chores, and with that quickly gathering up the courage to further explore the perimeters. He meandered, until making it as far as a clearing that led to a cliff’s sheer drop, and looked over the edge in wonderment. Adrian hadn’t been lying about them being near a summit.

Despite how much of Sami’s life had been spent in the mountains, he quickly realized that he’d never been up quite this high up. He gazed at the forest below, still barely grasping how expensive it truly was. There were other mountain ranges that he’d never even known of until now, cutting through the green canopy and towering high above it. Rivers carved their way through as well, shimmering and snaking paths that stretched far beyond the massive woodlands and possibly towards the sea. Small flocks of birds coasted over treetops, their shadows casted beneath them, sometimes over a low passing cloud; when they flew out of sight, Sami’s heart felt as though it’d joined them on their migration.

A gust of wind momentarily rattled him, and Sami stepped back from the ledge. Never had he felt so light, so truly insignificant, so...liberated. It was as though he was indebted to no one, since this landscape would surely exist long beyond his own departure from the mortal coil, and this idea humbled him. He sat down and continued to stare out, trying to make out if the small dots were villages nestled in the sweeping valleys. Were there other humans out there that had ever experienced this majesty?

Sami would have been content to sit there and marvel for a long while, but a steady rumbling somewhere off to his side intermittently pulled his attention in two directions. Occasional side glances became an all out search for the source once he could no longer focus on the vista. He peered at the thicket from where he suspected that the sound originated from, but could see nothing unusual. At last he stood and walked to it, concern gnawing that he stood upon a volcano on the verge of eruption. Bushes and branches were pushed to the side, and relief overcame him when he was not greeted by the sight of flowing lava, but rather a boisterous waterfall.

It was the first time he’d ever stood so close to one, and he watched the water until it had disappeared below the clouds. With each step towards it, a mist grew denser and droplets formed in his beard and eyebrows. The ground below his feet grew slicker, and he gripped onto the rock wall that it flowed over. He was breathless at the display of might, which could so very easily sweep him off of his feet and send his body helplessly colliding down to whatever waited at the bottom. 

He was so utterly transfixed that he barely noticed the pale blue lights that’d manifested on the other side, until the sense of unease from earlier resurfaced. They were gone almost as soon as Sami had snapped back to reality, and he stood acutely aware of how recklessly he was behaving. Still, he tried to see if there was a silhouette with antlers anywhere to be found, but there was no trace. Instead, what he spotted on the other side of waterfall only added to the confusion: another small shrine.

From where he stood, it appeared to be identical to the one he’d seen deep in the belly of the forest. His mind raced, trying to figure out how to gain access to it. Behind the waterfall was a narrow ledge, possibly sturdy enough to hold a grown man’s weight, but it was also completely soaked. And what of the creature that may be lurking around there as well? Every voice of reason that guided him this far in life loudly agreed that he ought to go back, that this was not safe, that he would not live if he pursued his curiosity. 

Sami faced the direction of the vista; some of the view was now eclipsed by overhead branches, but the scenery presented was no less commanding, no less moving. He studied the waterfall again, how it plunged with neither forethought nor afterthought and existed by its own accord. Thoughts rushed through his head at the rate the water cascaded, jumbling and deafening. The past mingled with the present, his daily life and affairs and the things that regularly plagued him. He knew what awaited behind him, what awaited when he returned to the city. A step was taken backwards. Another. And another.

And then, he launched forward, his feet hardly touching down as he bounded over the narrow ledge. When his feet reached the ground again, it felt as though his heart was about to burst. Breathing was ragged for a few moments, the air burning his throat and lungs, and everything spun around as he regained his senses. But he was alive, he’d survived and not fallen to his death, and that was the only thing that mattered.

Legs no longer shaking, he moved to inspect the shrine. This one had suffered from considerably more deterioration, with pieces of the stone work crumbled off entirely. The intricate carvings were worn down, and the wooden bowl that sat at the base was cracked. He had nothing on him to offer, not even the contents from small drawstring sachet. Could he come back with something, or at the very least take the bowl to the hut and try to repair it? He bent down and picked it up, cradling it between his hands. It was so brittle, and splinters dug into his palms as he turned it and examined the faded gilding on the inside. 

As he stared at it, questions about its intent and its creator came to mind, and how it came to make this place its home. So deep was Sami in his own imagination that when he heard a distinct creaking noise from somewhere above his head, he initially dismissed it as nothing more than being in his head. Then there was a distant _thud_ , like a door slamming, and Sami knew that he’d definitely not been thinking of such a thing at that moment. He looked up at the cliff wall and could not believe that he was actually seeing stairs carved into its face. 

Hurrying along the wall, Sami soon encountered the bottom step and tilted his head so far back that his neck began to hurt. The stairway was steep, each step hardly wide enough to accommodate a pair of feet, and zigzaged its way upwards for many paces. With a deep breath, he set foot and began to ascend. Equally parts cautious and hasty, he never remained on any one step for an extended period of time, sometimes sticking his fingers in the cracks of the cliff face for leverage. There were occasional tree limbs and roots that stuck out, and he held tight to those when given the option. Not once did he look down, only ahead. Sometimes sand and debris was littered everywhere and made it nearly impossible to keep footing, and Sami could only let go and trust in his body to be nimble. 

After countless paces, the stairs simply ceased to exist and Sami found himself grasping onto footholds and moving vertically. He’d considered cutting his losses and ending this journey now, knowing full well that the trip back would be borderline suicidal, but could not bring himself to do it after coming so far; the waterfall did not reverse its flow, and neither would he. Every muscle and joint screamed, begging for mercy, for him to let go, but Sami remained in motion. It took several attempts to grab onto the ledge from the final foothold, until he at last wiped his sweat drenched palms against his clothing and pressed them to the stone. Gaining just enough friction to enable him to pull his entire body up, he collapsed on top of the ledge. Out of breath, he panted heavily and rolled onto his back, fighting for air.

Wind caressed the flushed skin of his face, and he relished in the coolness. His breathing steadied, and he gradually sat up to take a look around. The vista still lay ahead, but was much smaller now, resembling a painting. He turned his head to see if here were more footholds to climb, knowing full well that he didn’t have the energy to continue much further if there were. 

Instead, his eyes landed on stone pillars and an enormous set of doors.


	7. Chapter 7

Sami did not get to his feet for sometime. His eyes were wide with disbelief over the tremendous structure that loomed so nearby. Who, or what, could have built such a thing? And to not only construct it, but with such precision? As he approached, he wondered if the forest and its bounty were always so inhospitable to humans; for surely, he thought with a hand now pressed to the ornate doors, that there’d been cause for such displays of devotion in the wilderness. Surely he must not have been the first to witness these sights.

Overgrown vines tenaciously clung to the pillars and the sides, only letting small portions of the stone that it covered show through. Even the details on the doors resembled the tendrils, curved lines that formed graceful patterns, reminding him of the borders of pages on the older manuscripts that he’d pored over. His fingers trailed further down, tracing until they rested atop a cool metal ring pull. Glancing from right to left, Sami made certain that there was no one else around, and gave it a quick tug.

The door did not resist.

There was now an opening, but it was merely a crack and he could not see anything past it. If outsiders were unwelcome, he rationalized, it would have been locked. Thoughts of the noise he’d heard at the base of the cliff clamored in his skull, and he swallowed hard. If he’d survived the crash and those following days and nights in the mountains, if he’d made his way blinded deep within the belly of the forest, his resilience could guide him further. 

A smaller, far more insidious voice that lurked deep within the recesses of his mind unhelpfully reminded him that due to these events he’d lived on borrowed time, anyway.

Gripping the ring tighter, he pulled it towards him. The large door creaked, its pitch elevating until it was at last wide open. Sami stood in the doorway and craned his neck to see if there was anyone inside. He was about to call out a greeting, but thought better of it. Nerves welled and he reminded himself that he could leave, that he had no supplies, no method to make fire should he need light. This foolishness would get him killed, no doubt.

He took a breath and stepped inside.

The air was stale, not unlike the library at the temple. Sami squinted in the dimness; though there were no candles to aid him, a window on one side of the room cast a glow in the otherwise inky room. The colors were similar to the windows back at the hut, and as Sami drew closer he could make out small air pockets, specs of dirt, and even small insects that’d been caught in the translucent material used. He’d never seen windows made like this before he’d entered the forest, this technique of imperfection made art.

A heavy splat from a drop of water caught his attention, the echo it produced making it sound like it landed in a puddle. He turned towards it, curious to see the state of whatever this place was. Scanning all around him, he found that it was mostly empty with no visible dilapidation. Steps were taken towards the back of the room, where another drop could be heard. The muddled light that shone through the window did not reach this far, so Sami wandered into the dark without guidance. Somehow, when he bumped his knee into a solid surface, it didn’t surprise him in the least.

Hissing, Sami grabbed at his leg with one hand while the other flailed about. His knuckles slammed down on top of a flat surface, which he _definitely_ hadn’t expected, and the jolt of pain caused his eyes to water. He blinked hard, trying to dispel any tears that formed, and when he opened his eyes he immediately noticed that he could now see in front of him. 

Faintly, a table -no, an _altar_ , sat illuminated, which was what he’d managed to collide with several times in the dark; yet, how it was alight was beyond Sami’s comprehension. There were candles on top of it, but they were not lit. He told himself that his vision had simply adjusted, but his stomach instinctively churned. Tilting his head upward, he went against better judgement and sought out what caused this effect to be taking place.

His blood froze when he saw that standing across from him on the other side of the altar was the humanoid silhouette he’d seen only from a distance. The illumination did not reach its facial features and it stood tall and perfectly still, the protrusions from its head sharp and threatening. Initially, the glowing marks were absent, but they gradually appeared as well; they reminded Sami of glacier ice, in regards to both hue and the cutting chill that they evoked. For several horribly tense moments it only stared, as if it was considering the intruder in its presence. Sami’s mouth went dry and his hands trembled, but he held the being’s gaze despite being so afraid that he could not speak.

And then, it turned and advanced towards Sami at a languid pace. Sami stood paralyzed by fear, for what else could this be than Death itself? They now stood on the same side of the altar, and the intensity of its scrutiny did not ease; yet, there were no sudden movements, no sense of malaise radiating from it. In his peripheral, Sami could see that same faint illumination that matched the altar and the markings of this being slowly encapsulate the edges of the room as candles lit up one by one on their own. Somewhere in the distance, the door could be heard shutting.

“You should not be here,” a familiar dulcet tone warned. With the increased luminosity, Sami could now see the face of whose presence he stood in. It felt as though his heart had stopped beating.

“Finn,” he whispered, though he could not bring himself to believe it. It was the same handsome face with beard and hooded eyes, and yet entirely different. There’d been no markings, nor pointed ears or slit pupils or anything so _strange_ about the man that’d saved him from drowning. This could not be him, not this intimidating, alien being with eyes that bore into the soul itself.

But buried within his subconscious, Sami knew those eyes. He’d seen them once before, and spent nearly a lifetime keeping the memory from ever manifesting during his waking hours. They’d unveiled themselves countless times in nightmares, where Sami was helpless and unable to avoid the burden of his grief. The trembling that he now experienced was no longer from panic, but due to an onslaught of emotions that he could not even hope to identify.

“You have to lea-” The being - _Finn _\- had started to speak again, but Sami had interrupted him by grabbing onto his sleeve.__

“Finn,” Sami repeated, his voice strained. His bottom lip quivered involuntarily and his breathing was as shaky as his hands. “Finn, it’s you. You said that it wasn’t, but it is and…” Legs weakening, Sami sunk down onto his knees and held tighter to the fabric. “You’re alive. You’re not dead, you’re alive.”

Silence consumed the room. Sami was light-headed, like everything was spinning and the floor was about to fall away. This must have been a dream that was bound to become a nightmare, he was certain of it; soon there’d be entrails and corpses, indescribable pain and harrowing loneliness. He’d awaken from something that was far too real, unsure if he could carry on like this anymore, not when being Haunted was damnation.

More time passed as Sami braced himself, but the assault from bygone visions never came. Instead, something touched the knuckles that had latched onto Finn’s sleeve, and it took a while longer for him to register that a hand was gently cupping his own. Sami slowly released the fabric, still terrified that the transition was to happen soon, and only felt fingers twining together. 

“You can’t be here.” There was the hint of a plea at the edges of that soft voice. Sami shook his head, squeezing the hand that held his. “You don’t belong in this forest.”

“How did you survive?” Sami choked back a sob, his eyes now stinging as well. “I’ve thought about you every day since the accident, I prayed that-”

“Sami.” Something about the way his name was uttered caused what little resolve Sami had left to crumble. One tear spilled, and then another, streaming down his face and landing on the stone floor.

“I just need to know,” was hoarsely whispered, his voice breaking. “I’m sorry, I just…” 

The fingers began to unlink, and Sami found that he did not have the strength to keep them together. His newly freed hand was clutched to his chest, like it’d been burned.

“I know,” responded Finn, but he offered no further explanations. He turned towards the lone window, the bottom hem of his long black cloak brushing against the floor as he did. “The sun will be setting soon. You’re welcome to rest here for the night, but you must be off come dawn.”

“Are you leaving?” Even through blurred vision, Sami could make out Finn’s striking profile. Those glowing eyes closed, and a single nod was the reply. While Finn started to walk towards the back of the room, his stride just as steady as it was before, Sami grew frantic. “Please, don’t go,” he begged, openly shuddering and curling in on himself, as though this display of grovelling would earn sympathy. “I need to tell you...I need to ask you…”

Finn hesitated for only the briefest instance, his head tilting to see behind him. Sami had dared to hope that his pleas were enough, but the trek resumed and soon he was alone in a dark room, in a strange building in a strange land. Sobs burst from his chest and throat, open and raw and quickly devolving into hiccups and groans until he collapsed onto the cold floor.

* * *

The moon sat halved in the night sky, just bright enough to see without the aid of a torch; not that such a thing mattered to Adrian.

He remained perched on the roof of the ancient temple well past sunset, his body now blending with the darkness outside. In solitude, he could admit that he wasn’t surprised Sami had made it this far. Sure, the lad was reckless due to an unrealized death wish, but he was also fiercely intelligent and tenacious like a dog guarding a marrow bone. Someone like that needed an eye kept on them for their own good, and that was precisely why Adrian had spent the afternoon following from a distance. 

There’d been a part of him that wanted to make his presence known and warn against trespassing upon these once-hallowed grounds, but he suspected that whatever had happened inside is what was necessary. After what felt like a lifetime, the wailing had at last subsided, but Adrian stayed in place. He wasn’t meant to interfere in external forces, like lives or paths; those types of responsibilities were meant for other beings with smaller concerns. 

When footsteps approached from behind, they were recognizable and did not warrant any acknowledgement in particular. And when familiar company took a seat next to him, Adrian let silence lapse for a long while before offering an observation. “Y’know, for what it’s worth, Ah don’t think he’s bad.”

Finn exhaled through his nose, obviously lost in his thoughts. Finally, he spoke up. “Neither do I.”

“An’ Ah think the only claws in ‘im are his own.” A side glance was cast to gauge Finn’s reaction, but all Adrian could see was wariness from days and nights on end without rest. 

“We can’t...be sure.” Every word spoken had layers of insinuation behind it, as though Finn was preparing to engage with something far beyond his own capabilities, yet could not afford to show weakness. “Not yet. Maybe never.”

Adrian had lived long enough to know that the concept of “never” was too risky to make an investment in, but he refrained from commenting on that. Instead, he remarked that Finn needed sleep, and earned a wry laugh for his efforts. “Y’ll burn out!” he snapped angrily.

“I’ll be by in a few nights. You have m’word.” This time, Finn’s laugh was much more sincere. “I need you t’do me a favor, though.”

“An’ that is?”

“Help Sami leave safely as soon as you’re able. An’ do what you have to in order t’keep him from coming back, yeah?”

“He’s gonna try, though,” scoffed Adrian, skeptical over what was being requested of him. “Have no doubt over that, mate.”

* * *

Somehow, Sami had managed to sleep.

He was not rested, his shoulder was in agony, and it felt as if a canyon had formed in his chest, but he’d woken up in the same room that he was left in. The candles were no longer lit, but the daylight that filtered through the window flooded the room. 

Before he had the opportunity to brood over what transpired, his stomach snarled from not having eaten for an entire day. Worry stretched thin as several concerns were mulled over, but dissipated almost instantly when he spotted a small heap of food at the foot of the doors. He scrambled towards it, not hesitating to bite into an apple that sat at the top of the pile. As he chewed, he considered that this may not be intended for him, then ultimately decided that it wasn’t worth the effort to care. Another two apples were consumed, along with radishes, carrots, and a handful of mullberries, until he was satiated and found the energy to stand. A final look was taken around the room, just in the unlikely event that he wasn’t alone, but the vacancy confirmed that it was a futile thing to hope for.

The doors were pushed open and Sami stepped outside once more. Fresh air was wonderful on his skin and in his lungs, and more importantly was enough to temporarily revitalize him. His shoulder was still inflamed, but he’d worked through worse scenarios. He walked to the cliff that he’d come up over and looked down, seeking out the footholds to climb. Once he found them, all thoughts were dispelled and the sole focus was on the descent. 

The first foot dropped and then the other; guided by instinct alone and devoid of emotion, Sami managed to walk down the steps with no fear, and safely landed at the base. He didn’t bother to look back and see just how far down he’d gone. It was only upon reaching the other side of the waterfall did he feel the full weight of the encounter. For a fleeting moment, he stared at the rushing water and nearly entertained the intrusive thought that’d suggested he hurl himself into it; rather than engage, he wrapped his arms around himself and rocked back and forth, until the threat of a breakdown subsided.

Returning to the hut was a comparatively simple affair. There were boulders that he recognized as landmarks and the cloud coverage was thin, so he was able to wander with certainty. As he drew closer and the garden and stall came into view, Loovah’s bellows were a most welcome greeting, serving as a reminder that at least someone out there did care for his wellbeing.

“Oi! There he is!” Adrian’s distinct squawking came from overhead, and Sami could only half-heartedly chuckle. The raven landed on the ground near his feet, studying him with keen eyes. “Did’ya get lost last night, lad?”

“A little,” Sami admitted. He hoped that he wouldn’t have to explain what happened. Thankfully, Adrian didn’t ask.

“We’ll be off tomorrow, before sunrise. Unless y’ve any objections.”

Sami shook his head. Wordlessly, he followed Adrian inside and fought the urge to crawl into the bed. Curiously, the fire was no more than glowing embers, so he threw some kindling onto it, and then a log once it was burning steadily. “Thanks,” Adrian quietly remarked.

The contents of the satchel were now dry, and after examining each item they were packed up again. Everything was mostly in tact as he remembered it, but the candied chestnuts had vanished; before he could ask, Adrian explained that Finn had taken them, and Sami simply nodded. For the remainder of the day, they sat in a silence and merely existed. No chores or errands were requested, and had Sami not been in such a haze the stillness would have driven him mad.

In the end, the allure of the bed was too much to resist, and Sami crawled under its covers and closed his eyes. And again, he slept, but was still not rested when Adrian woke him up. The sun had not yet risen, but he was coerced into eating a sizable breakfast. “We’ve a full day’s journey an’ then some,” noted Adrian. “Ah’ve added more supplies to y’r pack.”

“Alright,” Sami acknowledged. Again, the silence swelled, and unceremoniously he gathered up his meager possessions. As he adjusted his satchel, without looking up he asked, “Are we ready to go?”

“Yeah,” the raven cautiously responded, sounding nearly as though he’d been caught off guard. Together they left the hut and retrieved a very groggy Loovah from where he’d slept in the garden. Adrian perched on an antler while Sami readied the saddle and then the lantern, and once everything was in its right place, their ride began. Directions were given and followed, past the sea of ferns and right into the thick cluster of trees. The light from the flame swayed back and forth in accordance with the rhythm of the reindeer’s stride, sometimes illuminating tree trunks in such a way that they resembled columns of marble at a temple. 

And not a single humanoid silhouette was spotted.

They wandered at a sharp decline, slowly and steadily, and Adrian’s head never stayed still; yet, if he had any concerns, they were never vocalized. Mostly, however, their journey was damp and uneventful. A cavern was entered and passed through, long and winding, with enormous stalactites that shimmered in the dim light. Adrian made mention these served as mines eons ago, but did not specify what was being mined, or by whom. Drops of water loudly echoed, and when coming across one of the many pools they’d been gathered in, the raven warned Sami not to refill his canteen here. Occasionally it felt like they were being watched, but again, nothing was mentioned.

It wasn’t until they reached the exit, which was situated on a pointed cliff, that Adrian recommended they take a break. There was still darkness, but Sami quickly realized that it was not due to the thick canopy of trees and that for the first time the sky could be seen since the hut. Shades of periwinkle with sharp streaks of orange drowned out the dying starlight, and as they sat together and allowed their bones to rest a short while, the horizon grew paler and brighter until the sun gradually ascended.

“How often do you get to see this?” Sami finally spoke up.

“Enough, Ah suppose.” Normally the vague answer would have brought some kind of amusement, but this time it only reinforced the numbness that ran heavy through Sami’s veins. “Well. We’ll be goin’ down a few switchbacks, whenever y’re ready.”

“I’m ready.” Instead of riding on Loovah’s back, Sami grabbed his reins and walked ahead. On the narrow ledges, there hadn’t been any opportunity to dwell or engage in self pity, and Sami wholly focused on the terrifying trails that seemed to crumble ever-so-slightly with each step forward. The wind batted at them without mercy, ruffling Sami’s hair and clothing. However, he forced himself to remain calm, knowing full well that if he panicked it meant that Loovah would follow suit; for the first time in years, he dug deep down inside and channeled meditation techniques, and blocked everything else out. 

And when they at last set foot off of the switchbacks and onto solid earth again, alive and whole, Sami breathed out heavily. If nothing else, he’d been reminded that despite the deep pain it’d caused, there’d been some use to the faith he once carried in his heart.

When they weren’t in the forest, Adrian flew on ahead and shouted directions from above, while Sami followed diligently below. The raven finally landed as they approached and moved into another cavern, taking a seat on top of one of the saddle bags this time. There was a distinct clamminess inside that was pervasive, and the moisture could be felt soaking into the clothing. Its corridors were much narrower than the previous one, to such a degree that Sami grew concerned about Loovah's antlers and even considered turning back; but the reindeer seemed unbothered, and he scratched behind the ears to try to be encouraging, although deep down knew that it was mostly to satiate his own anxiety. 

"Shouldn't be much further now," Adrian assured several times. There wasn't any reason to doubt him, but the misanthropic thoughts were loud and intrusive. They moved cautiously, the tip of an antler occasionally grazing against the low ceiling and making Sami fret internally. From where he sat behind them, Adrian spoke up again, “Once we’re past this, we’ll be on the path that leads directly outta the forest.”

“Sure.” Sami wasn’t certain how to respond with anything other than single words, part of him decidedly not caring whether it was due to being too frazzled or intentional aloofness; however, it didn’t _feel_ right to react this way.

“It’ll take a bit more than a day’s ride back to y’r city,” the gruff accent interrupted his thoughts. “Should be a village along the way to try’n find shelter for the night.”

Sami tried to formulate words, wanting to articulate his curiosity as to why the raven was now so chatty, but the sound of scraping had his full focus. Loovah grunted loudly, but it was more out of agitation than any sort of pain, and Sami gave him an encouraging pat. At least the upcoming portion of the cavern seemed more open than what they’d been passing through, and Sami could even see some light trickling in from the far end. “Guess you weren’t kidding about being close, huh?” He stated, then waited for some sort of scorn to be tossed his way.

And yet, there was nothing.

“Adrian?” Sami dared to ask as they drew closer to the glow of daylight. He twisted to look behind him at the saddlebags where the raven had perched, but found no one there. “Adrian?!”

Again, nothing. Out of instinct, Sami pulled the reins to stop Loovah, but he knew full well there was no room to turn around. He thought to dismount and search, but could not afford to waste time or abandon his reindeer. Adrian’s name was called out several more times, but only Sami’s echo was returned to him. More time passed, but it was for naught, and some excruciating yet inexplicable emotion imploded in his chest cavity. There’s been a chance that the raven was hurt and had fallen, but the truth of the situation was so intrinsically obvious that any further time spent considering it would only lead to further despondency.

So instead, Sami made the decision to keep moving forward.


	8. Chapter 8

High atop a peak and hidden behind large boulders, two men sat in waiting. One monitored the valley below, constantly scanning and never once taking his eyes off of the road that passed through it, while the other was far more interested in tending to his field notes.

“Anything yet?” The note-taker inquired without looking up, tucking a stray short lock of blonde hair behind his ear.

“Nope.” The ‘p’ was popped, and the thinning patience was palpable. 

“You sure your contact is legitimate?” Notebook now set down, the blonde studied the tense body language of his partner. “Kev?”

“What?!” Kevin snapped, shooting a glare from over his shoulder for the briefest instant before returning his focus to the road. There was a heavy exhale that followed. “You don’t have to be here, Chris. Go home.”

“It’s fine,” shrugged Chris, although he was unsure as to why, once more, they were waiting on Kevin’s irritating friend. He reclined back enough so that he rested on his elbows, and plucked a few blades of grass that were within reach. “We’re supposed to try and stick together, anyway.”

“If we’re on assignment,” Kevin grumbled, but didn’t protest any further. “Anyway, it’s Sami. He probably stopped to smell some flowers along the way or something.”

“Wasn’t he at Alfir?” Staring up at the clouds, Chris kept mental track of several other items that he’d later add to his list of reasons that he despised the strange redhead.

“He was,” Kevin confirmed with hesitation; caution was laden in his response.

“So why would he be travelling down _that_ road?” Chris gestured lackadaisically towards the dirt path that’d been the center of attention all this time. 

“That’s the question that’s worth the king’s his fortune, isn’t it?”

* * *

To Adrian’s credit -not that Sami was willing to extend much to him- there’d been a village on the way back to the city. He’d encountered someone kind enough to allow him to spend the night in their home, and as he went to retrieve the sachet to pay them for their hospitality, he found it heavier than he remembered. A few silver pieces were given despite initial protests from his host, and as soon as Sami was in private, he analyzed its contents and found it stuffed with silver and copper. 

And yet, despite Sami’s small gratitude towards this charitable act that’d been committed, it also made his heart hurt all the more. 

He was off before the sun rose and anyone in the village was awake, leaving a handful of coins on the dining table. Breakfast was had on the bank of a river that he’d been traveling alongside for the entire morning, and more discoveries were made when he pulled out dried fruits that he’d never tasted until then, but were exquisite. There was some jerky as well which was set that to the side, and though it smelled utterly savory, he found himself still wary to consume meat. Suddenly, the taste of rabbit manifested in his mouth, and Sami instinctively brought fingers to his lips; it vanished almost as soon as it arrived, and with it his appetite.

In the distance, the mountains and the pines nestled at their base filled Sami with what he could only equate to with grieving. Until these recent days, he merely viewed them as a backdrop to the landscape, and never anything to be directly interacted with if he could help it. Were there other humans within his proximity that had travelled there and, if so, would they be able to relate to what he’d been through? Or was he very much alone in this case, similar to what he’d endured as a child. 

The words _you don’t belong in this forest_ repeated in his head over and over, and despite his best efforts Sami could not determine what they meant. He spent the remainder of his journey mulling over them; at first he tried to agree with their sentiment and told himself that returning to the life he’d known before this debacle was truly for the best. Being an apothecary and healing people was what he was destined for, so he’d told himself many times over. Nothing good could come from time spent in a realm so calloused, so deadly.

Yet.

Were he worth anything as an apothecary, as a human being, he’d make an attempt at finding that ingredient. And as Sami approached the city gates and was allowed to pass through, there were peasants huddled together that were not permitted entry. The lesions on their hands and faces and hoarse coughing were the tell-tale signs of _Sitaun_ , which meant that Bayley’s concern of a potential epidemic was imminent. 

The noise from the city streets engulfed Sami, so much louder than he remembered them ever being, and he hurried to escape the sensory overload. Once they’d reached the shop and Loovah was safe in his stall, Sami hastily greeted his mentor and nearly ran up the stairs to his room. He shut the door behind him, and every step to his bed felt heavier and heavier, as though his legs were strapped with stones. A fire was started in the small woodstove in the corner of the room, articles of clothing were stripped off, and Sami crawled under his blanket and cocooned himself. A tremendous part of him wanted to sob, to purge whatever invasive sentiments had taken root and left him weak and trembling, but his body refused to comply. 

Phantom sensations of fingers touching his own were pervasive; of his hand being held, and of all too familiar loneliness and isolation consuming him entirely. His pillow was slammed into with a fist over and over, and screams were muffled by it as well. Though thoroughly exhausted by not only his travels, but also this sudden expulsion of energy, sleep was still kept at bay. 

_You don’t belong in this forest._

_You don’t belong in this forest._

_You don’t belong in this forest._

Sami had survived that damned forest once. And with or without help, he’d survive the damned thing again.

* * *

The flaxen hair held in Becky’s hands was separated and the strands were untwisted. When one braid was finished being unraveled, she proceeded to the next, nodding while Charlotte continued with her account of the meeting from earlier that morning.

“Can you believe those two?” huffed Charlotte, the pitch of her voice elevating the further that the rant went on. Becky quietly hummed in response, which earned her an incredulous, “Becks.”

“Well,” pursuing her lips, Becky could practically taste the disapproval that hung heavy in the air. “Is it _really_ the worst idea now?”

With as loud groan, Charlotte slumped further down the bed they both sat on, her head now in Becky’s lap. “Not you, too!” she wailed, throwing an arm over her face for further effect. Becky rolled her eyes released the braid that she’d been working on. There was certainly a charm to seeing her love so much more emotional in private than could ever be allowed in the public eye.

“We can’t gowan avoiding that forest forever, can we?”

“My father didn’t spend his whole life dedicated to this temple and warding off demons for us to casually toss his legacy out along with the bathwater!”

“Sure,” agreed Becky. “But the girls weren’t asking to launch a full investigation or take up resources or nothin’. “ She was interrupted by an annoyed hum. “And besides, you were the one elected to be Lady Superior, not him.”

“So?”

“So...you don’t have to make decisions off of his work. When do ya get to work on your own legacy?” Gently, Becky moved Charlotte’s arm and leaned down enough to place a kiss on the furrowed brow below her.

“I told them I’d consider their request,” Charlotte flatly stated, her face now a shade darker as she attempted to keep a most stoic expression.

* * *

Rain pelted so hard against Sami’s window that he wondered if it’d turned to hail. He hadn’t bothered to leave his bed since he’d gotten into it, not even when his mentor knocked on the door and offered supper. Even if he were to regain his appetite, Adrian had left him with enough supplies to remain satiated for a few days.

Several times the pelting was so loud that it sounded as if it may chip at the window; initially, Sami assumed that it was due to the poor weather, but the space between the distinct sounds seemed as if they were timed. After a fourth _thwack_ , he finally rolled out from under the covers, pulled on his tunic, and walked over to the window. Sure enough, the rainfall was quite hefty, but below in the alley a figure caught his immediate attention. Their face was covered by the hood of the mantle that they wore, but Sami recognized that silhouette from anywhere.

Trousers were pulled on and Sami rushed down the stairs, into the still shopfront where the grey and white cat that slept peacefully on the countertop. He moved to the backroom where medicine and remedies were prepared, his head sometimes brushing against a dangling bundles of dried herbs. The door that lead into the alley was unlocked, and the large shrouded figure stepped inside. Drops of water scattered everywhere as the hood was removed.

"Kev!" exclaimed Sami, shutting the door behind him then locking it. After it had been checked again, he busied himself with a candle near the workbench. There was the familiar sensation of unease that settled into the pit of his belly, the same which manifested each time Kevin arrived without warning, but he dismissed it as frayed nerves after an arduous journey. "Hey, how are you? What..ah-"

"Daniel's not here, is he?" Kevin curtly asked.

"No, he went home for the night. Brie's pregnant, did you know that?" Sami's hands trembled, the lack of food he'd consumed now catching up to him. Kevin simply nodded.

"Great. That's great." Another nod, and then a brief lapse of silence. "So, how was Alfir?"

"Oh, you know. Same as ever." A deflated laugh escaped from Sami. With arms folded across his chest, it appeared that something about the response wasn't enough for Kevin. "The library hasn't been in the best shape since Dusty passed away. Bayley has a lot of patients to deal with. Actually, everyone's got a lot going on; I didn't even see Charlotte once while I was there!"

"Maybe she was just avoiding you," Kevin snorted and Sami frowned.

"Yeah, probably," he finally agreed with an exhale. Then, with a small clap, he changed the subject. "So, what have you been up to?"

"Patrolling, mostly." For some short time, Kevin recounted mildly interesting incidents that'd recently happened out on the roads, mostly skirmishes with bandits that he'd taken out. As he spoke, he scratched at his beard and pendant he kept wrapped and his wrist glinted in the candlelight. Sami watched it sway, the emblem of a stem of rye and a mallet on it the same that was the same on his dagger and that adorned the occasional shop sign. "Which is actually part of the reason that I'm here."

As soon as those words were said, Sami's head shot up and he focused directly at Kevin, who now stared at him.

"Huh?" replied Sami. "I'm sorry, but. What do you mean?"

"Alfir is west of here, and there's only one road to access it." Kevin sniffed loudly, as he often did when deep in thought. "So why were you riding north earlier?"

"To deliver medicine," Sami said in haste. "I was lending Bayley a hand while I was at the temple. Since she couldn't leave to get to one of the villages to assist a physician in need, I offered to go for her."

"That uh," Kevin sniffed again, "one of the _border_ villages?" 

Sami did his best to hide any expression that gave away how his stomach turned by that term; it was a term Charlotte and Kevin and anyone in opposition of the forest's very existence spat out in regards to the villages that were within its proximity. They were all but forsaken by the empire, and according to rumors they were often subjected to horrifying demon hunts. Upon further thought, he was shocked that he hadn't encountered any Proctors at the village he'd spent the night in. He swallowed, but still summoned courage that he did not truly feel. "Alfir has an obligation to help anyone that's in need of it. You know this, Kev."

"Right, well, just be careful next time you take on something like that. You might be all for lending _them_ a hand, but you're not a member anymore. Those immunities don't trickle down to you, pal." Kevin's index finger was now outstretched, virtually pressing into Sami's chest, just below the bad shoulder.

"I know," Sami reassured, swatting the hand away from him. He repeated himself several more times, but the suspicious glare from Kevin never softened. Fully exasperated, Sami threw his arms in the air. "Is that all you're here for? Well, thanks a lot, Kev. Lovely visit as always, don't let the door hit you on the way out."

When Sami was grabbed by the collar of his tunic and abruptly pulled towards Kevin, he knew deep down that he shouldn't have found himself so surprised by the violent gesture. He didn't flinch, yet his heart thundered as he was acutely aware of the brutality that his friend was capable of indulging in, be it for his job or whenever the mood struck. The two stared at one another for what felt like an eternity, until fingers uncurled from the fabric and Sami was released. "Watch yourself," was growled, and then Kevin left, disappearing back into the night.

* * *

Aside the rain that fell hard against the windows, Alfir's halls were silent. Sasha held tight to Bayley's sleeve as she was led through the darkness, the robe's fibers worn and soft to the touch and provided a minor comfort. Despite being the Deputy, she generally made it a habit to avoid this wing of the temple the best that she could.

One winding hall turned into another, until they at last reached a sturdy door that Bayley unlocked. "You can let go now," she said with a smirk, and Sasha made a face at her before complying with the suggestion.

"It's so dreary down here!" Sasha started to chastise while Bayley lit the wall-mounted lantern with the flame of the candle in her hand. The door was shut behind them, and the study that they now occupied was so small that it was fully illuminated by the meek light sources. Bayley sat at the desk and gestured for Sasha to take the stuffed chair in the corner of the room. "I really don't understand how you can work down here so much."

"Well, to start, I'm not bothered by the spirits or whatever else everyone says is down here."

"And what about the rats?" Sasha shot back.

"Rats are everywhere in the city as well. That's just how it is." Bayley shrugged and Sasha shuddered. "And second, it's less likely that Charlotte or her gang will come down here and interrupt my research than if I spent time up in the ward." There was a sly glint in her eye as she said that.

"Yeah, well it makes my job **that** much harder since I have to account for you!" Through her teeth Sasha ground out, doing her best to contain her agitation; she barely succeeded. 

"I know, I'm sorry." It was an empty apology, and Sasha rolled her eyes. "But, speaking of Charlotte..."

"Yes?" Settling into the chair even more, Sasha grinned widely, far past the point of being humble.

"I seriously can't thank you enough for all of your help!" Arms were thrown wide open, and Sasha found herself abruptly engulfed in a hug from where she sat. The smell of lavender and chamomile wafted into her nostrils, obviously remnants of a sleep tonic that Bayley had been working on earlier. For a while, Bayley rambled off her reasons for gratitude, and Sasha let her. She was unable to admit anything about being equally surprised that Charlotte not only agreed to the meeting, but also agreed to the mission that Bayley had laid out. There were caveats in place, of course: the budget was practically non-existent and they'd need to find an idiot willing to forgo adequate compensation for their efforts, and that was not a member of their clergy. One of the few benefits that the poor sap would be entitled to was immunity that those in service of Alfir were granted, which was invaluable in any other situation that didn't call for entry into that sinister forest. When Bayley assured that she had someone in mind, Charlotte raised a sharp eyebrow at her, but said nothing more. 

"So do you really know someone like that?" Sasha asked. "Because you know that you're not allowed to do this yourself."

"I do," nodded Bayley enthusiastically. "But we'll go over that later. For now, I say we celebrate our victory."

"And how do you propose we do that?" Before Sasha finished the question, Bayley pulled away and revealed a jug of wine that she'd been holding onto the entire time. And as Deputy, Sasha knew that she was sworn to -at the very least- investigate however this article of temple property been procured; instead, she simply shook her head, undid the cork, and took a hearty swig.

* * *

Days had passed since Kevin's unexpected visit, and Sami resumed his duties around the shop. Daniel had only made a single remark about the length of time that Sami was gone for, but other than that he mostly gave enthusiastic updates on Brie's condition; come spring, they'd welcome their child into the world. Hints were again dropped about Sami's pending employment, yet his responses were increasingly vague and noncommittal. Previously, the offer had been an absolute thing that he'd been excited at the prospect of, and now the idea of staying put in this one city for perhaps a lifetime was...suffocating.

As Sami swept up the back room's floors after a long day of taking inventory, Daniel surfaced with a parcel in between his hands and set it down on the workbench. Gesturing towards it, he remarked, "This just arrived for you."

"Me?" Sami pointed at himself in disbelief, but Daniel returned to the front without further comment. The parcel was picked back up and examined, the twine that held it together garnished with the wax seal of Alfir. He grabbed a knife and cut the twine, then set aside the packaging. Its contents were spread out: two parchment scrolls, a medallion, and an even smaller package. Unrolling the first scroll, he immediately recognized the writing as Bayley's. 

_Sami,_

_I'm sorry that I couldn't come to you in person, but we've received approval from the Lady Superior. Contained are items that you'll need for your expedition; unfortunately, we were not granted much for resources from the temple itself, but I've included items myself that I consider to be of importance. You need to exercise the utmost caution with everything in this parcel._

_May you be watched over and have safe travels._

_Bayley_

 _PS, please avoid wearing the amulet within the forest itself. We absolutely cannot be certain if there are malicious forces that might find it to be a grievous offense, given the temple's history._

There seemed to be so much more that went unsaid in the letter, so Sami reassembled everything, even going so far as to tie the twine he'd cut, and tucked the bundle under his arm. As he went to leave the room and go upstairs to further examine it all in private, he bumped into Daniel and almost dropped the contents that he intended to carefully guard.

"Whoa now!" Daniel laughed as Sami frantically checked himself. Then, Sami felt a hand placed on his arm, and it was enough to ground him for the moment.  
"Sorry, I..." Sami trailed off, unsure how to approach this topic. 

"Alfir wants something, huh?" As Sami nodded, Daniel sighed. "You know, you don't have to go along with their every whim."

"Bayley needs me, and I said that I'd help. If I don't do this, it'd be irresponsible and people could-"

"Sami." A warm smile was given, along with a squeeze of the arm. "You're rambling."

"I don't know if I can keep being your apprentice, Daniel," Sami blurted out. "You've done so much for me, given me so much. But I need to go, and I don't know when or _if_ I'll even make it back."

The weight of the words hung heavy in the air, and Sami clutched so tightly to the parcel that he worried about damaging it. He wasn't sure what to expect, be it disappointment or insults or even threat of immediate eviction; at the very least, he thought he'd be informed that he was a waste of time. So when he heard more laughter, he was stunned. "So you're taking a furlough, that's all?"

"Well, not quite. But sort of? Is that allowed?" With his free hand, Sami scratched at his head.

"You might not believe this, but once upon a time it was encouraged that apprentices take a leave of absence before they finished their training. It was to help them make the final decision in their career without any regrets. I took one myself years ago, and if I hadn't, I would have been a miserable shepherd out in the hills and would've never met Brie."

"So you're fine with me going?" Sami blinked, prepared for the punchline to drop at any moment.

"I think you ought to, as long as you're fine with me using your room for storage while you're away."

"Of course," Sami responded dumbfoundedly, still unsure if this was an elaborate joke. Even after he was encouraged to continue on his way back to his room and sat at his desk, the wariness never fully subsided. Daniel was a strange man, Sami reminded himself; kind-hearted and hardworking, but still strange. 

The parcel was opened again, and setting Bayley's letter off to the side, the other parchment was thoroughly glanced over. He'd never seen an immunity document in person, but the gilded borders and fancy calligraphy wasn't entirely surprising for something that bore Charlotte's signature. Both the document and the amulet were wrapped in a scrap piece of oilcloth that Sami kept in a drawer, and tucked into the satchel. 

Next, the smaller package was undone and investigated. There were five gold pieces, which was more money than Sami had ever handled in his entire life, and those were quickly deposited into his hidden sachet after a brief lapse of panic. A piece of cloth swaddled another item, which turned out to be a miniscule vial with contents that were immediately recognized to be the mushroom. There were also smaller sheets of parchment which had been folded up neatly into squares, the ink on them nearly faded and the paper torn and stained on some areas. It took Sami several attempts to read through the text until it dawned that he held pages from Mick's very own journal.

He wondered how many rules Bayley had broken in her efforts to get these critical items to him, and shuddered to think of the potential consequences if he failed.

* * *

"Would you now care to explain why you insisted that we meet _here_?" The disgust that dripped from every word was outright tangible. On the bed, the contemptuous creature had sprawled himself out. Of course, his bedmate mused, not a single golden hair was out of place, despite their raucous actions just moments ago. "Is your weird son still hanging about your house?"

"Gods, don't call 'im that." The other man scraped hands down his face. If there'd been any proper record kept regarding how quickly they'd managed to annoy one another upon reuniting, surely this very instance would place highly on the list. Grabbing the strip of leather that'd been placed on the nightstand, he gathered his own unruly dark mane and tied it behind his head. "An' Breezy, Ah already explained, there wasn't time t'meet at the hut. This'll last until tomorrow's sunrise, and then-"

"Caw caw?"

"Precisely." Now standing up, articles of discarded clothing were collected.

"Nev?" The once petulant tone was now much less sharp, a rarity when dealing with his lover. But when he did not immediately respond, the irritability resurfaced tenfold. " _Neville_ , I'm talking to you. Or what are you called now? Ari?”

"Ah go by ‘Adrian’ these days. Been a long time since Ah've heard th’other name, it’s kind of nice." Adrian looked up with a smirk, shoving one leg into his trousers then followed with the other.

"How difficult is it to use your hands when you turn back?"

"There's an adjustment period, for sure," admitted Adrian while he pulled his stockings up. "But Ah started off as a human, as y'may remember, Tyler. However, it’s been some years, hasn’t it?"

"I'm not **that** old," Tyler snarled. 

"Nah. Certainly not for sylph, anyway.”

“You’re old as well.” Perfect lips pouted, as they were prone to doing. “Then again, I don’t think I’ve ever known you as being young. Your chest was all saggy-”

“My tits were perfect when Ah was still a lassie and you know it,” Adrian snapped, then cleared his throat, doing his best to avoid succumbing to his own temper. “As Ah was saying, falling back into the human cycle isn't that much of a tribulation." 

As he finished with getting dressed, Adrian ignored the occasional tugs at his waistband and shirt, until there was a defeated sigh that filled the room. "So you're really leaving now?"

"For now. Ah’ve got a spell queued up that requires attention to detail. Should be ready by now.” He produced a piece of charred wood from within his sleeve, and the resin that was smeared on it to hold certain components in place stuck to his fingers. When he spotted a strand of red hair attached itself as well, he grimaced. “Y’know the deal, Ah'll be back come the change of the season. Though it'll be a tad shorter due to all this." Adrian gestured at himself.

"And you're sure that you don't have time for another round?" Fingers hooked under Adrian’s waistband, but he solemnly shook his head.

"'Fraid not, this is much too important." Leaning down, Adrian attempted to place a kiss on Tyler's cheek, but was stopped by a hand to the face.

"I think not," Tyler huffed and Adrian laughed. The hand that was the barrier was now the target, and Adrian touched his lips to the knuckles instead. "Ugh. Get out of here. Call upon me next time you’re looking to do more than just pass the time while you wait for your damn spells to cure."

"Give my best to y’r new lad, an’ try not t'miss me too much," teased Adrian as he left the room. He shut the door behind him and returned to the entryway of the tavern. The room key was handed back to the host, and Adrian left before inquiries were made about where the other occupant was; frankly, they wouldn’t have believed him even if he explained the method of how his guest would depart from the building.

As soon as he stepped outside, the feathered cloak was pulled tighter around his shoulders as a harsh chill swept through the streets. Glancing down, Adrian studied the dirt and cobblestones with such scrutiny that he crouched to get a better look. A handful of earth was gathered and shoved into his trouser pocket. Then two fingers touched the ground, then the charred wood pressed down and a sigil was drawn. A few words were whispered in an extinct tongue, and it felt like lightning coursed through his veins, followed by a dim pulse from the ground itself. He jolted back up and stood straight, then began to walk briskly through narrow alleys. The pace picked up and he rushed on ahead, as though possessed, easily leaping over any smaller obstacles and going so far as to scale any walls that stood in his way. Once he landed on the ground, he’d touch the earth again to find the pulse, and resume the trek.

Were this the past, he would have been concerned about being caught trespassing by the city guards. During a descent from a rooftop, Adrian gripped tighter to the feathers of his cloak; and despite that he could feel the weight in his pockets, he still checked them out of habit to make certain that it was still full of soil. The irony was not lost on him that he had his human form for a precious few hours, but still needed to give the illusion that he was a bird (at the very least for when his feet were off the ground). If he wasn't on a self-appointed mission that didn't require having whatever resources available at his disposal, he might feel more slighted. 

Illusory magic was always somewhat of a nerve wracking affair for him, as he hadn't a clue how he was actually being perceived by others. It'd ultimately been his gateway to spellcasting when he was an adolescence, a means to temporarily present himself to the world as he'd always known how he should be. And now, there were so few disciplines that he hadn’t mastered, but the very first one he’d perfected still caused him the most distress. 

The ground was touched again, each particle of dirt practically vibrating under his fingertips. He readjusted his spectacles and peered ahead, trying to hone in on the direction he was supposed to go. Suddenly, the trembling intensified so much that he worried it may have not been due to his own methods, that perhaps a nearby volcano was due to erupt. 

While Adrian evaluated his options, his concentration was interrupted by a clumsy oaf walking right into him, knocking him over. There was an immediate barrage of apologies, and Adrian stood and dusted himself off and pointedly ignored the offers to help him up. He'd opened his mouth, ready unleash a verbal thrashing unlike any the world had ever encountered, but stopped himself when he spotted the red hair and beard.

Instead of acknowledging the bumbling redhead, Adrian made a quick retreat and disappeared into a nearby crowd. He silently cursed himself for not being more careful, that _Sami_ of all people had encountered him. Perhaps there was more of an adjustment period going from one form to another that he'd never noticed before. 

It took some time, but Sami's befuddled expression eventually dropped in resignation and he wandered away from the site of the collision. Adrian kept a safe distance, watching Sami disappear into several shops over the course of the day, but seldomly emerging with anything. Once a bakery had been visited and vacated, Adrian waited for Sami to visit a leather smith's business before succumbing to temptation of freshly baked goods and slipped inside. Two women worked behind the counter and conversed about the upcoming Martyr's festival, one far more animated than the other and boasting that she'd surely win the stone lifting competition this year. 

"They won't stand a chance, dear," the other responded dryly as she turned her attention to assist Adrian. "Please ignore my wife, this time of year is what she lives for."

"That'd explain the display, aye?" Adrian covered his mouth with a fist to try to suppress as laugh as a look for horror overcame the softspoken woman that was attempting to help him.

"Dana, either bring in more wood from outside or tend to the bread, but do something other than pose and show off your damn arms!"

"Sure thing, Em!" The blonde woman cheerfully replied and left them. Subdued giggles and mortification quickly subsided, and Adrian was able to purchase a delectable smelling meat pie. He inquired about whether or not they had any candied chestnuts in stock, and was informed that they had completely sold out of their entire day's batch due to the customer that had come in just before him. 

"Curious," Adrian commented to no one as soon as he was back outside, hardly waiting to bite into the pastry. Across the street, he could see Sami engrossed in a conversation with a the shopkeep, so Adrian took refuge in a nearby alley. The remainder of the day was spent repeating this process, yet the only thing that seemed suspicious of Sami's activities was that he was handing over money and not collecting anything in return. Did he have debts that he was attending to? Or was he making preparations? 

Inevitably, trailing Sami by sight alone faltered when the sun started to set, so Adrian used the ground as his guide again. Sami's trail was warm to the touch, and though individual humans had a unique signature to their path, it was admittedly one of the more pleasant ones that Adrian had experienced. The spell was unnecessary when Adrian approached a building and could smell Loovah's musk on it, and unsurprisingly a large wooden sign with the apothecary's symbol hung above its door.

The next move was considered: he still didn't have any useful evidence to come to a decision on the strange man, but this method was time consuming and wasteful. Observing the building, he could see that the inside was dark. "The lad's somewhere in there," he muttered undeterred, moving to the side and seeking out somewhere that he could sneak into undetected. As fortune would have it, he could see a dimly lit window that lead to the second floor; even if he couldn't enter without risk of being caught, he knew where to observe from. 

Nimbly he scaled the wall, pushing out unfounded concerns over the illusion magic failing to work. As he drew closer to the window, a shadow obscured the light and he froze. Someone shouted out, and then was quieted. Adrian continued to climb, until he was just under the window ledge, and clung to that spot. There was another loud noise, something crashing to the floor and breaking, followed by more shouting. Then silence dragged on for too long, and Adrian considered breaking in via the front door to assess the situation. He was just about to drop to the ground and go through with that plan, when an imposing voice roared, " **You're going to tell me _everything_.** "


	9. Chapter 9

Running his tongue across the corner of his mouth, Sami confirmed his suspicion that there was a trickle of blood. Perhaps it had manifested when he’d armed himself and thrown the clay jug, and a splinter from it had flown back and cut him. Or maybe it he’d finally bitten his own lip so bad that it punctured, which was really an inevitability given the circumstances.

Across the room stood Kevin, who for just a flash was visibly shaken, only for that horrible familiar arrogance to resurface. Shards of the former jug crunched under his footsteps as he walked forward, the arrogance twisting to something darker. Part of Sami had wanted to apologize out of instinct, to explain that he was only protecting himself from an intruder, but it was Kevin’s own fault for breaking in. He quickly found his personal space encroached upon as he was backed into a corner, and Sami wondered how time could simultaneously be as rapid as a river and yet crawl like a glacier.

“Stay back,” warned Sami, his throat dry and palms sweaty. He was a few hairs taller than Kevin, and did his best to take advantage of this factor by pressing the balls of his feet to the ground; however, the display did nothing to deter the other man.

“ **You’re going to tell me _everything_** ,” Kevin roared back, so close that Sami’s ear began to ring. Then, his voice lowered and teeth clenched and he continued with, “I know that you fucking lied to me, and I need some answers or we’ll _both_ have to deal with some problems.”

“I have Immunity,” Sami ground out, now stepping forward as well and spurred on by a flame that flickered in his belly. He spat, “I don’t have to answer to the likes of you or anyone else in your guild anymore.”

A few moments of silence passed while they stared one another down, until Kevin dared Sami to “prove it”, and Sami produced the parchment scroll that bore Alfir’s seal and the Lady Superior’s signature. Kevin attempted to snatch it from out of Sami’s hand, but Sami held tight to the document. Resignation overcame his face, and Sami watched him pore over the parchment. At last, he sighed and rubbed at his temples. “They’re going to get you killed. This-” he pointed his index finger at the parchment “-is going to get you killed.”

“Well wouldn’t you know about that,” stated Sami defiantly, earning a glare in exchange.

“Someone’s either going to hold you hostage, or slit your throat on the road. You know that, right? This doesn’t grant you safety.”

“And it wouldn’t be necessary to have this if the band of thugs you joined weren’t above the law or didn’t terrorize innocent people!” Sami exclaimed, throwing his arms up in frustration. 

“Like Alfir is so much better!” shouted Kevin. “They act so high and mighty, but they don’t do anything against demons that freely roam around. They judge and condemn but refuse to take action. And it’s fucking pathetic that they kicked your useless ass out but you still comply with their every whim when they need a mule to do their most shitty chores.”

“I didn’t-” Sami’s voice raised, but he took a deep breath to settle down. His lip quivered involuntarily as he continued, “I didn’t get kicked out. You _know_ this. And if it’s the border towns or the highways that’s got you worried, I’m not going to be anywhere like that, anyway.”

“So why do you have Immunity, then?” Kevin narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “They don’t simply grant that to anyone.”

“I’m on a mission,” Sami started, bristled by the way Kevin snorted. “It’s important, I swear!”

“Yeah? What errand do-”

“I’m going into the forest.” Silence and tension instantly swelled, disbelief all over Kevin’s face. “I have to try to collect something. An ingredient. No one else is going to do this, so I have to.”

“You’ll be killed,” whispered Kevin. “Sami, you absolutely cannot do this. It’s suicide.”

“I’ve already been there. It’s where I came from earlier,” Sami admitted. “It was an accident how I ended up there, but I made it out just fine.”

“There’s no way.” Now grabbing onto Sami’s arm, Kevin repeated himself as he searched his face, “There’s just no way.”

“But I did.” The brute demeanor that Kevin typically presented to the world at large seemed to all but dissipate, and Sami took a deep breath. It’d been so long since he’d seen his friend so...open. So unguarded. Perhaps he could at last get through that thick skull, through the misanthropy and barbed words that were typically hurled at him. Perhaps, a glimmering thread of hope manifested in Sami’s mind, he could even recruit Kevin and they could work together once more. “It’s not impossible. I had help.”

“Who? How in the fuck did you have help? There’s no hope out there!”

“Kevin, think back to when we were children. To the wagon. Do you remember Finn at all? The boy that saved me?”

“That demon spawn that you spent way too long crying aboutr?” Kevin’s eyes suddenly widened, as if he was realizing something. “Why?”

In that moment. Sami was also realizing a few things: the first was that Kevin would not be of any help, the second was that he should have never opened his mouth, and the third was that his eagerness could very well mean his own demise. He resisted the urge to swallow, knowing full well that he was being studied by a Proctor and not anyone that resembled his friend; his friend was far gone, regardless of whatever concern was shown shortly beforehand, and that much was obvious now. A few options were mulled over, and Sami responded with, “He wasn’t a demon, Kev.”

“But you saw him?” Eyebrows were now raised.

“I...I don’t know. Someone that reminded me of him, someone very kind. And he helped me when I needed it the most. Kevin, you have to trust me,” Sami pleaded.

“Sami, a demon aided you,” Kevin flatly stated, sounding like he’d known this all along. Did he? Was it a bluff? Sami could not possibly know, but violently shook his head. Then, leaning in closely and grip tightening, Kevin’s voice went down to a whisper again, “Y’know, normally there’s a protocol I have to follow. But since we go way back, maybe you and I can work something out…”

Sami squeezed his eyes tightly shut then opened them again, his heart crashing against his ribcage. The futility of the situation weighed heavily, each second passing feeling like another stone had been added to his grave. He took another breath and willed himself to smile softly, nodding slowly. This reaction caused Kevin to smirk, his grip to ease, and he opened his mouth to say something. Sami was so acutely aware of what was necessary, that the man in front of him would not hesitate to put his occupation -and the devices that came with it- before their friendship, whatever tattered shreds of it remained. With as much force as he could muster and the element of surprise on his side, Sami shoved Kevin away.

As Kevin lay on the floor, jaw now agape, Sami made a dash for the door. Unfortunately, his ankle was caught before he was able to get that far, and he was pulled down as well. A thousand thoughts rushed through Sami’s mind, of how he could possibly escape this unscathed. Just as he was dragged backward, the house began to shake.

“What the fuck was that?” Kevin asked, letting go and whipping his head back and forth as though he’d find the source. The room shook again, and from the window bright hues of orange and yellow could be seen ablaze and engulfing buildings in the distance. 

“Is...is the city on fire?” Sami pointed, and Kevin followed his finger. “Kev, isn’t that where your-”

“My family!” Scrambling, Kevin hurried up off of the floor and out of the room. The door downstairs could be heard opening with such exertion that Sami wondered if it’d been torn from its hinges. He collected himself and moved to the window, trying to assess the situation.

Astonishingly, aside the night sky and general stillness of a city gone to sleep, there was now nothing there. He looked down into the alley and saw Kevin running off in a panic, then looked again to the buildings and saw not a single trace of the flames that once threatened to consume everything in their wake. Blinking a few times and rubbing his eyes, Sami still wasn’t able to see any traces of the fire whatsoever. 

Unsure of what to make of anything and heart still beating heavily, Sami ran fingers through his hair and schemed how quickly he could utilize whatever had just transpired. Still staring out the window, he spotted something equally strange: something had been left of the ledge. The glass pane was lifted and Sami retrieved a small rectangular box, wondering if Kevin had planted it when he’d broken in.

“That’d make no sense,” Sami chastised himself, then recalled the past few moments and concluded that absolutely none of _that_ made any sense, either. Rotating the box in his hands to examine it, he didn’t get the sense that it was any sort of trap, but had nothing other than a gut feeling to go with. He ran his thumb across a latch and flipped it up, opening the lid and glancing inside. There was rolled up vellum, tied with twine and old and faded. It seemed to shimmer until it’d been pulled out into the lit room. Sami was about to unroll it, but found something of more interest at the bottom of the box.

A solitary black feather.

He returned to the vellum and practically tore off the twine, his hands now shaking as he dared to hope about the identity of the benefactor. It uncurled neatly, though the crease lines were proof that it at one point was folded into something book sized, and Sami immediately recognized it as the map in Adrian’s journal. Tears involuntarily welled up and were wiped away as he studied the map, now even recognizing a few of the geographic locations that were marked on it. He looked back out the window, even going so far as to hang the upper half of his body out of it, but saw no birds hanging around. 

However, there were now enormous glowing markings that’d been drawn next to and underneath his window.

“Huh,” quipped Sami, easing back inside. Surely this must all related, but he didn’t have the mental fortitude to dwell further. Instead, he considered how much time he had left until Kevin returned, and knew that it could not be much. And if he stayed put, it could prove to be a fatal mistake. The only option was to embark now.

A letter that he’d drafted for Daniel earlier that morning was left on the shop’s counter, and he hoped that it conveyed the depths of his gratitude. Pats and scratches were given to the cat, which purred incessantly and Sami smiled at her. He double checked the supplies that he’d packed, then gathered up the overstuffed saddle bags and satchel and head to Loovah’s stable. 

The reindeer whined excitedly at Sami’s approach. As the saddle and bridle were set in place, Sami noticed more black feathers on Loovah’s back and neck; though he knew it was dangerous to hope, what more in life did he have to guide him than hope itself? He smiled despite himself, brushed them off, and climbed atop the saddle while half expecting the raven to land on Loovah’s antlers and start barking out instructions. They rode through the city streets, avoiding any that Kevin might have taken to get back to his home, and head towards the blacksmith’s shop. Although Sami had been told his goods would be ready in the morning, he knew firsthand that Antonio worked at a rate that was suspiciously inhuman and was optimistic that he could collect at least some of his order now. 

Upon approaching the shop, the main chimney could be seen billowing smoke. He dismounted and tied Loovah to the hitching post outside, and with a deep breath, knocked on the door then let himself inside. Despite that fire blazed in the forge and made the room nearly searing, Sami shivered. He watched the familiar muscular frame compress and expand the enormous bellows before returning to the anvil. Sweat ran down the man’s bare back in rivulets, and pangs due to a strange brew of nostalgia and forlornness gnawed at Sami’s insides. 

He was one the verge of intense self-flagellation about allowing himself to get too close and _still_ harboring this painful emotional shard, but his concentration was interrupted by, “‘Ey fella, little late t’be shoppin’, ain’t it?”

Sami spun around and came face-to-face with Sheamus, the block’s leathersmith, and in his meaty hand was a stein filled with some strong smelling.

“Why are you here?” Sami instinctively asked, as if it was his place. Sheamus merely chuckled, and for some reason Sami felt so very small.

“Toni!” Called Sheamus in between the sounds of heavy strikes of the mallet against hot iron. Antonio looked at them, wiping his brow the the back of his forearm, and gave a small wave. In a quieter tone, Sheamus turned back to Sami and said, “We had a talk earlier and realized we’re both workin’ on things for ya. Thought it’d be easier to get it all done together.”

“Oh,” was all that Sami managed, definitely not watching Antonio’s handsome visage draw closer as he walked over to them.

“Sami! You’re early!” Antonio greeted as he clapped his hands together. “What can I do for you?”

“I know, I’m sorry. Something urgent came up after we spoke, and I’m in a lot more of a hurry than I originally anticipated.” He swallowed hard, catching the way that Sheamus’ hand grazed Antonio’s. “Did you have anything ready? If not, it’s fine but-”

“Yes, of course. On that bench, go have a look,” Antonio gestured to the back of the room. “I think that may be all of it, actually. Sheamie just finished up with his portion of the load, so it’s all yours.”

“Thank you. Uh, both of you,” nodded Sami, using that as the opportunity to excuse himself and head towards the bench. There were questions left unasked as it wasn’t any of his business, and really, it never was. Years ago, Antonio had made his intentions clear before anything had even transpired between them; no matter how much Sami believed there was a real spark and unlimited potential, he ultimately resigned all ‘what ifs’ and daydreams to their agreement. Those sleepless nights were in the past, and despite whatever vagueness there was, there’d never been anything substantial.

The handiwork was inspected, albeit more out of awe than quality control. Antonio was meticulous, his works of iron were art as much as they served their functional purpose. Sami ran his fingers over everything, from the pieces of body armor to the toolset that he'd been putting off on getting for as long as he could remember. There were buckles to spare, requested because the ones on Loovah's bridle desperately needed to be replaced and if anything came undone in the forest, they'd be doomed. Anything flourished with Sheamus' leathercraft was admittedly gorgeous, the carved and burned details intricate with knots and floral patterns. The various belts and straps were so strong, and would be necessary to have at his disposal. Sami, not once owning a new thing in his life, felt unworthy of possessing these collective efforts even though he'd paid for them. 

"What do you think?" Antonio asked, as though he was not aware of his talent.

"It's all so...perfect," Sami responded in a daze, then shook his head. "Can I take it all now?"

"Have at it!" The offer was so eager that Sami could only comply. He scooped up as much as he could in one armload and brought it out to Loovah. When he turned to retrieve the rest, he found himself trailed by the pair carrying the remainder of the wares. He thanked them several times as they assisted in loading Loovah. A drink had been suggested by Sheamus as Sami was about set off, but was declined.

"You'll be safe, right?" Antonio asked while Sami mounted, his face unreadable.

"Probably not," admitted Sami. "But I'll do my best."

"Do you have everything you need?"

"Not quite. There's nothing too vital that I'm missing, but don't think I'll be able to get it all now unfortunately." Rubbing at his beard, Sami gave thought to the supplies he'd purchased but could not collect. "Could I ask you to possibly swing by the vegetable cart that's usually parked across from here, and the bakery as well? I should have a few things waiting, but if you could take them over to Daniel's."

"Sure," Antonio agreed, then gave a fond pat on Sami's thigh; Sami ignored the way that the genial touch generated turbulence in his stomach. "I'll take care of that. You take care of yourself."

"Thank you." Just as Sami set off, he called behind him, "And please don't tell Kevin that I was here!"

"You’ve got it!" Antonio called back, waving.

At the pace that Loovah moved, it was obvious that the reindeer was feeding off of Sami's sense of urgency. They hurried through the city, uncertainty nipping at their heels with considerable ferocity and pushing them to hurry. Though Sami knew full well that there was no guaranteed safety outside of the city walls, this recent encounter with Kevin only proved that being within the barrier just as dangerous. Down twisted roads they rode, weaving throughout the slums while Sami muttered prayers under his breath; as long as none of Kevin's guildmates were at the gates, they'd have no trouble leaving.

With the gates in view, Sami’s prayers grew more fervent. A guard rushed by in a frenzy, followed by another, both nearly startling Loovah. Sami watched on, transfixed as more followed suit and began to leave the wall. Things like "FIRE!" and "MONSTER!" were shouted and repeated, but when Sami turned to see for himself, there was nothing abnormal present. He slipped past the panicked band of people with makeshift weapons in hand, and went through the open gate unbothered. Torn over being compelled to assist, he knew he had to take this opportunity since there were forces at hand that would impede this critical mission; still, it gnawed at him. Just as he thought to turn around and make absolute certain, something soft brushed against the bridge of his nose. He reached up to swat it away, only to find that it was a small black feather. 

The sky was cloudless, and Sami followed the southern road with help from the stars that blazed high above. He dared not stop, for fear that either the perceived threat would be thwarted or clarity would be gained among the guards. Concern about whether bandits or Proctors would be out at this hour made him feel ill, and he knew it'd only be a matter of time until someone pursued him. Every step made the forest seem far more welcoming, but he knew not the best way to reach it. 

The moon had reached its apex and began its descent before Sami opted to take a brief respite in order to gain his bearings. He followed the sound of running water and lead Loovah to a nearby river. While the reindeer drank, Sami rummaged through his satchel and retrieved the map that'd been left to him. Though he was acutely aware of how futile it'd be to read a map in the dark, even with his vision now being fully adjusted, it'd at least provide some emotional support. Layers of supplies were pushed to the side, until the box was reached and Sami pulled it out. 

It took several tries to settle his shaking hands until he felt confident enough to lift the lid and keep everything from spilling out. He pulled off his gloves and ran fingers against the contents until they grazed the soft vellum. The box was set down after he pulled out the map, and cautiously unfolded it in his lap. Inky lines that symbolize boundaries and crude landmarks were barely visible, and Sami wished that he had the time to tend to a fire and make sense of their surroundings. 

Absently, his index finger pressed down on a spot that could be their current location as he chewed the inside of his cheek deep in thought. As the contact lingered, it felt as though something pricked at him; at first he assumed it was due to the cold, but a stain pooled from under the tip and spread out onto the map. He attempted to wrench his hand away, but it remained affixed to the spot. A few pleas were uttered to no one, and as he siphoned through future scenarios of a life with one less finger, the stain streamed outwards in all directions and each of which had began to illuminate. 

The streams did not seem to flow randomly, and they accurately followed roads that connected the towns and cities. Much thinner and dimmer lines branched away from those and head in directions that Sami recognized as territories that'd either been condemned by the empire or seized by the zealous Proctors. His finger was finally released from whatever held it, but as he took it back thick drops of blood fell from it and splattered onto the surface of the map in one very particular spot. Those stains glowed as well, brighter than any other, and landed within immediate proximity of southern road he'd been travelling on. He searched for the muted lines that stretched out beyond that, and found one eventually to the west that led right to the forest's edge. It'd take some time to reach it, but if they moved swiftly with the wind at their back, they'd reach it before the moon could dip much lower. 

With everything put back into its place and the area checked one last time for stray supplies, Sami gathered Loovah and resumed their trek. The map was kept tucked into Sami's tunic, but some strange instinct had blossomed as he rode and suggested he did not need to look at it. Whenever he blinked, glowing streaks that reminded him of Finn and the forest formed behind his eyes. There was a moment where his wounded finger burned and the pain shot up his arm, but the sensations vanished before they could intensify any further; when he checked the map to determine how far they'd travelled, he found that the brightest stain had somehow migrated and that they'd already taken the turn to the western path. Judging by the distance, it had happened right around the time when the phantom pain struck. 

The further they moved towards the trees and away from civilization, the more at relief Sami felt about being on his own in the night. Trees that sporadically dotted the valley now formed clusters, at first only a few at a time and gradually becoming more expansive; not only that, they were taller and thicker. With the encroaching density, whatever isolation he had taken some solace in gave way to awe as he once more was forced to confront these ancient entities that towered above him.

Eventually, the pace slowed and the sound of hooves making increasing contact with more rocks than dirt echoed loudly. Sami was unsurprised when they at last encountered a wall of enormous boulders, which he was now barely able to make out since trees in every direction blocked out the moon and starlight. He dismounted and sought out a safe passage for Loovah, then guided the reindeer on a narrow path. Small rocks, damp granite, and loose soil underfoot caused them to come close to losing balance several times, so when they reached a ledge large enough for both of them, Sami paused to take a break and created a torch. 

"We could sleep here?" Sami suggested out loud while Loovah immediately took to grazing upon fungi that clung to the boulders next to them. However, visions of rolling off of the ledge and onto the jagged rocks below while he was asleep assailed him, so they continued onward. Overhead, vines and moss that hung heavy like icicles were familiar and strangely welcoming signs. At the top of the wall, he felt some smug satisfaction in making it back into where he'd been warned never to go to in the first place. He'd challenged the world over this, and he'd won. 

By the dying light of the torch, Sami wasted no time setting up camp. A large sheet of canvas was unrolled and pitched for shelter, and Sami scrambled to find extra sticks and branches for reinforcement. He searched mostly at the base of tree trunks, gathering up a bundle under one arm until he could no longer hold anymore. Ready to turn around to further prepare for the night, he instead stopped dead in his tracks at the sight in front of him.

Mere paces away from the campsite was a small shrine.

He dropped the bundle and hurried to the saddle bags, where he had packed the large sack full of candied chestnuts. Scooping out a heaping handful, he dropped to his knees in front of the structure and poured them into the waiting bowl. With reverence, he whispered, "I apologize for being unable to offer anything last time. I am humbled by your might. Please grant me safe passage, I will cause you no harm."

"'Course you won't. You'll be very dead, after all," a shrill voice from behind Sami laughed, and he froze in place. The sickeningly sweet fragrance hit swiftly and choked him, and how he hadn't noticed it at all until now was an enigma. 

"Oh, no no no, love. We've got to bring him alive. Remember?" A second equally high pitched voice joined the first, and Sami shuddered. He did not know what these ageless creatures were or what he'd done to earn being pursued by them, but he did know that he needed to make a decision fast.

"We can still toy with him a bit, yeah?" The first proposed, and despite how very badly Sami wanted to run, he was aware that making a sudden move would initiate the hunt.

"Oh, I don't know, Peyton. We've already tried that..." While the two debated, twisted vines and blossoms wrap themselves around the tree in front of Sami. Slowly, he pulled his mantle in front of his face to try to avoid any contact with the spores; the scars on his hands and arms from where they landed on him as a child never truly faded, nor had Kevin's breathing fully recovered since that fateful encounter. He knew their damage too well.

Loovah's lack of disruptive noises was of tremendous concern to Sami, and against better judgement he lowered the mantle enough to try and see his whereabouts. A guttural cry unwittingly tore itself from his throat when he spotted the reindeer in a crumpled heap on the ground. Every sense of self-preservation dissolved as Sami stood to rush to his side, but before he could even step a single foot forward he found himself held tightly in place. Thorny tendrils snuck around his arms and shoulders, piercing his clothing and digging into flesh.

"Well, we can at least get rid of that _filthy_ animal, right?" Peyton playfully suggested as she now circled in front of Sami, her eyes and skin ablaze with green light.

"No, please-" Sami started to beg, but stopped as he felt a vine enclose around his throat.

"C'mon Billie, I'll make it quick," she grinned wickedly, until there was a sigh from the woman still behind Sami.

"Yeah, fine. Just...let's sedate him first." There was a tap on Sami's shoulder, then he was grabbed by the chin and his head was wrenched backwards. "Open wide, boy."

Sami helplessly watched as his mouth was pried open by one hand, while in the other there appeared to be petals from one of toxic flowers. When he was a child, he’d managed to evade this exact situation, but just barely. Struggling was useless, as the thorns only dug in deeper with every small movement. Their giggling was incessant and terrible, not aiding his concentration to attempt keep his jaw firmly shut. The vines pulsed and tightened, the agony so intense that it caused him to begin to lose consciousness. Was everyone right? Was he not meant to be here?

A scream jolted him back to being awake. The vines released their hold on him, and while he unceremoniously collapsed to the ground, vulgar words were shouted back and forth between his assailants. There was commotion all around: deafening roars, hastey scurrying, rumbling snarls, booming footsteps. He could not see it, but he felt a power presence loom above his own body, could hear and feel its hot breath through the holes that’d formed in his clothing and against newly open wounds. 

Trembling, Sami recited what he only assumed were his last prayers and simultaneously could not help but muse over the phrase ‘there’s no atheists in the face of death’. He felt the presence shift its weight, possibly ready to deliver the killing blow; as Sami tensed up in preparation, the breathing grew heavier yet. 

There was grumbling that reverberated through his own body. And then, he distinctly heard it speak. 

“ _Sa...mi._ ”


	10. Chapter 10

Sami did not respond. 

He lay face first on the ground with limbs splayed out, possibly in his own sweat and piss and blood, yet he remained still. Whatever stood over him sniffed loudly several times, and he could have sworn he felt a strange slickness against his neck. Something hoovered over his ribcage, and it remained there for a few breaths; it was much too large to be a human hand and could easily crush whatever it made contact with, but the interaction was shockingly gentle. For a fleeting moment a sharp object grazed his skin, but it did not give them impression that the intention was to harm him any further.

" _You're...hurt,_ " the voice roughly growled out; the words were so stretched out that it took a short while to register what was said. It was undeniable that where the thorns had punctured skin was agonizing, but Sami still kept quiet. He was fine with letting the strange presence continue to breathe heavily and make whatever assumptions it wanted. For all he knew, he'd been poisoned and this was a hallucination due to the toxic flowers. More time was drawn out and he continued to swear to himself he'd remain silent, until again there was another gruff, "Sa...mi."

"What?!" Sami weakly snapped. The presence grumbled and sounded as though it might have more to say, but before it could Sami found the strength to shake off the thing on his back and managed to roll over. Greeting him were rows of glowing teeth, claws like knives, a mane like a lion's that moved at though it was alive, all of which was attached to a large creature with a body darker than the forest itself. He knew this being, but did not have the energy to fear it now. Instead, he scoffed out, "You're not even the strangest thing I've dealt with today." 

The creature's mouth opened and thin strands of saliva snapped between its teeth, and the long tongue protruded and lolled to the side, but it did not attack or say anything further; rather, its body heaved and it wheezed. Sami was dumbstruck at the display.

"Are you going to kill me?" he asked, which settled it down. The large head and mane shook. "Alright. Great. I need to check on my friend over there. You scared him last time, can you maybe not do that this time?"

" _Sor...ry_ ," it replied. Reaching up, Sami grabbed onto one of its enormous arms and pulled himself to a seated position. The texture of its body was unexpectedly soft and vaguely reminded Sami of the thin velvet fabric that adorned some of Charlotte's cloaks. There was a startling juxtaposition of raw power below that veneer, and he could feel the muscle that was much more like granite under his hands; could feel it when the creature helped pull him up the rest of the way with no effort whatsoever. 

"So how do you know me?" Sami steadied himself on its forearm, wincing as the wind caressed his injuries. It was probably safe to keep a conversation going with this thing, since he'd need all the help he could get. Perhaps the toxin really was eating at his mind.

" _Finn_."

"Oh," was all Sami could respond with as he internally fought any sudden reactions off to the name that'd been uttered. Without another word and no time for distractions, he stumbled over to Loovah's body and collapsed next to it. He put his ear over the reindeer’s chest and listened, and was overjoyed when a slow but steady heartbeat could be heard. Wrapping his arms around Loovah’s neck, Sami buried his face in the fur and kissed the top of the head. Heavy footsteps approached, yet the creature maintained a good distance away from Sami and Loovah.

“Hurt?” it asked, the inflection in its voice seeming to contain genuine concern. 

“He’s alive, and breathing normally. I think they just rendered him unconscious, probably from the flowers.”

“ _Sow...ers_ ,” it stated. “ _They’re...bad_.”

“Is that what those two are?” Sami inquired, now, looking back at the creature. It nodded, then took a seat on the ground. The way it sat was curious, dog-like on its haunches and palms directly in front of it and flat on the earth. He wanted to ask what exactly a Sower was, but the creature was apparently incapable of full articulation, or at the very least it was strained at best. “They hurt me when I was young, too. It still hurts sometimes today.”

“ _Yes_ ,” it nodded again, as if it understood. As if it actually knew firsthand. Sami sighed, ashamed and angry with himself that fleetingly he ached for literally anything empathize just once, even a monster in the forest. 

“How did you know Finn?” Blurted Sami, and immediately after swallowed hard in disbelief that he’d been so impulsive. When the creature did not immediately respond, Sami stammered, “It’s. Hey, it’s. It’s fine. You don’t have to. Have to uh...tell me. It’s fine.”

“ _Sleep_ ,” it grumbled, laying on its forearms. Sami considered protesting, that if he rested now he’d be unguarded and the Sowers could return and finish their job; however, it did not appear that the creature was going anywhere, so he said nothing. A wool blanket was pulled from out from a saddle bag that was within arm’s reach, and he covered both himself and Loovah with it to trap the heat.

Sami slept lightly and woke up several times, mostly due to Loovah twitching or readjusting his position. He was relieved that the reindeer was gradually coming to, and wondered how he’d be able to give a thorough exam if they were continuously submerged in darkness. Each time he peered over his shoulder to check on the creature’s whereabouts, and he consistently saw the glowing markings in the same spot. 

Frigid winds brushed against Sami’s exposed nose, causing him to stir awake once more. The blanket was nearly thrown off due to the immense heat the rest of his body was experiencing, but he gained clarity prior acting upon it. Loovah was still in the exact place he’d been the whole while, which wasn’t surprising, but bracketing Sami’s other side was the enormous presence that emitted body heat akin to the bellows in Antonio’s shop. Its breathing steadily rumbled, reverberating all the way through Sami’s clothing and down to his own skin.

Sami tried to observe the resting creature, curious to see it in a state of tranquility; between the proximity and the absence of light he could not make out any defining features. Its raw power radiated even in slumber, and in a peculiar twist Sami felt more safe than he did vulnerable. He hadn’t any idea how or when it had gotten so close without notice, but as he lifted his hand out from under the blanket, he felt like he may have an idea as to why it did. Snowflakes fell onto his exposed knuckles, and he reached above his head to find that they’d accumulated on the ground as well. The hand then moved and hovered over the creature’s body, and he felt the flurries evaporate.

Unintentionally, fingertips lightly grazed the creature, but Sami dared to let them linger there. He’d partially expected to suffer from burns at the contact, but the warmth was not unbearable. It stirred slightly at the touch and did not move otherwise, so Sami took that as a sign that it was fine to curl in closer. Just as he slumber tugged at him again, it was interrupted by a soft, “ _Sa...mi_.”

“I’m sorry!” Sami instinctively apologized, backing up as far as he could into Loovah. The reindeer snorted at him.

“ _Dan...ger...ous_.” It paused. “ _Out...here_.”

“I know that,” he scoffed, then sat up. “I know, alright? Everyone’s already informed me. And maybe you won’t get it just like they didn’t, but I-” he grabbed at his own hair in frustration “-have to do this. I have to.”

“ _Should...go...back_.” Another pause. “ _You’ll...die._ ”

“Oh yeah? What’re you, Finn?” Sami muttered, rolling his eyes and hugging his knees to his chest. Then, in a mocking tone, he repeated what he’d heard earlier, “‘Sami, you don’t belong in this forest’. Is that it?! It’s not **his** place to decide where I go.”

“ _Yes_ ,” it snarled, now sitting up as well. The glowing teeth were bright as they faced him.

“ _Yes_ , what?” Sami spat back.

“ _Am...Finn_.”

“I…” Sami blinked. Then blinked again and again. Surely, he misheard. Surely, the creature was not making such a bold assertion. “I…”  
While he stuttered, a thick white mist slowly rolled in and enveloped them. The glowing teeth faded in and out then melted, their light bleeding into one another and running downward then fading into nothing. 

Sami hadn’t noticed the ambivalent lighting previously, but he could now see it as the dark mass that was the creature’s body shrank before him into something the size of a man. There was a sharp inhale, and shortly after the mist began to thin enough to reveal Finn’s cloaked form standing tall above Sami.

The air had gotten so much colder, and though Sami wrapped the blanket tight around his shoulders it did not keep him from shivering. He could sense eyes on him, boring metaphysical holes.

“I’ve already told you that you should not be here.” Finn’s tone was flat, the cadence of his voice lacked all previous traces of sympathy. For a few beats, Sami’s heart felt as though it had stopped. When he tried to formulate a response, his throat had tightened. The mist completely vanished, leaving Sami more exposed than he could bear. 

“I’m sorry,” Sami finally croaked out. Though there was hardly any light, Finn’s expression and the mixture of stoicism and disappointment was highly visible. Still, even as he wallowed in this moment of despondence and regardless of every scrap of common sense that screamed at him, Sami could not help but quietly be enthralled by how truly sublime the man across from him was. Finn opened his mouth to say more, and Sami cut him off before he could be chided any further. “I’m not leaving. I have to do this. I have to be **here**. A lot of people could get sick and even die if I don’t find what I’m looking for.”

A pause swelled between them, wider and more unsettled than the ocean, but Sami kept his resolve firm and jaw clenched as he stared back at Finn. At last there was a heavy sigh, and Finn took a few steps forward. A hand reached out towards Sami, and he reflexively recoiled away from it; as he sat horrified by his own instinct, Finn’s cold demeanor immediately collapsed into blatant mortification. Sami’s bottom lip trembled as he fought back the overwhelming compulsion to sob, unsure why such things were manifesting at the most inconvenient possible time.

“Sami, I-” Finn crouched down so that he was eye level, his voice so soft that it was borderline delicate. “I’m not going t’harm you.”

Sami nodded quickly, words failing him again as his head swam. “I know,” he hoarsely whispered, only saying that as a reflex. Neither seemed certain of how to proceed, but the sad look from Finn pained Sami, so he willed himself to release the tension that practically vibrated off of him.

Now strained, Finn pleaded, “But you **are** going t’get very hurt if you stay. Y’just made it through the threshold and things here are already attacking you.” The hand which caused the reaction stayed in place, and Sami kept focus on that instead of how close Finn was. Then, it slowly moved upwards, and Sami barely heard Finn ask, “May I?”

Sami agreed, although he wasn’t sure what to, and the hand approached once more. Heavy restraint was exercised to keep from flinching like before, and Finn made no sudden movements. Fingers cautiously tugged at the collar of Sami’s tunic and touched the lacerations from the thorns. They moved to the back of his neck, tracing where there vines had been. Though it wasn’t pleasant to have open wounds prodded at and the process was entirely impersonal, when the hand reached his throat, Sami could not fight off the urge to lean into the touch. Mercifully, Finn made no comment about it.

“Sure something’s causing these t’not close.” Finn looked down at his stained fingertips. “Th’ blood’s not flowing, but they’re still very wet.”

“I have moss in my pack,” Sami suggested. Finn shook his head.

“Nah, that won’t flush out whatever’s in there.” His lips forming a hard line, Finn was silent in thought. He stood back up, wiped his hand off on his cloak, then held it back out within reach of Sami. “I’ve an idea, but I need you t’understand something right now.”

“What’s that?” Sami asked incredulously, extending his own hand and hoping -praying- that he was not misconstruing this invitation. Their fingers linked, and Finn helped pull him up off of the ground.

“I haven’t time t’keep watch over you, Sami. There’s too much that need my attention, an’ a human being here...well, it may as well be a beacon t’the nastier residents, as you’ve now seen.”

“So don’t look after me,” shrugged Sami. He didn’t dare draw attention to the fact that Finn hadn’t let go yet, no matter how badly he wanted to squeeze the palm that touched his own. “I’m a lot more resilient than anyone gives me credit for.”

“Gather your belongings.” Hand now released, Sami was begrudgingly free to dismantle the camp he had originally set up. He checked on Loovah, whose pulse and general disposition seemed back to normal, then grabbed hold of the reindeer’s reins and looked to Finn for further instruction. “Why aren’t you riding th’ deer?”

“If he’s still unwell, I don’t want to stress him any further.”

“Ah.” Finn nodded in understanding. “Well, follow me.”

“Can I ask where we’re going?” 

“T’get you healed up.” For a while, the conversation ended there as Sami stayed a few paces behind Finn with Loovah in tow. He mulled over hundreds of questions, but his tongue was too heavy and throat too dry to ask any of them. Dawn’s subtle light had barely filtered through the canopy, but Finn glided along with such certainty that Sami did not hesitate to follow. At times, he’d stare down at Finn’s hand that dangled by his side and the pale blue glow that emitted from the fingertips; it was very unoccupied, and still he quickly shoved down any impulses that bubbled up. Instead, Sami focused on their surroundings: the stillness of the trees, the crunch of freshly fallen snow under their feet, puffs of breath that formed with each exhale. The need for physical contact gradually reduced to something far less suffocating, though it still tugged at his core.

Then, as if his prayers were answered, his thoughts perhaps heard, fingers linked with his own. All the distractions that he’d engaged in vanished with grooved fingertips and smooth nails against his own. “This way,” Finn simply stated as they turned abruptly and the terrain began to shift to a steep descent; still, Sami kept steady, his footing never easier than in that moment. Occasionally, Finn would ask if he needed a break when breathing got labored, but the offer was declined every time. 

“Actually, could I ask you something?” Sami inquired when the ground evened out and he was able to open his mouth without his lungs burning for air. Finn turned to look at him, his eyes narrowed, and Sami hurriedly added, “It’s not about the forest, I promise!”

“Sure,” Finn slowly responded, his suspicion giving way to bemusement. 

“Why-” Sami sharply inhaled, wondering if he’d regret this. “Why do you hold...uh, grab onto my hands so much?” 

“Is that not…” Finn blinked as he trailed off. He went to open his mouth as if to say something, and it took every instinct for Sami to not interrupt and ramble off a list of apologies for even bringing it up. “Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do for someone that’s lost or scared? To make them feel better?”

“Huh?” It was Sami’s turn to be puzzled.

“That’s what you did for me when...when we were children. In the cart.” Whatever cool stoicism Finn normally displayed had was gone as his eyes widened and eyebrows raised high and mouth was slightly agape. “So I assumed-”

“Yes!” Sami blurted out and nodded enthusiastically, squeezing onto Finn’s hand tighter and going so far as to bring it up to his own chest; it was seconds too late to realize this action may have been foolhardy, since Sami’s heart beat so wildly. “Yes, you’re absolutely...of course. I just sometimes do it with friends as well. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to confuse you.”

If Finn saw through the small lie, he gave no indication whatsoever. Sami asserted a few more times that everything was fine, until Finn finally turned back around and they continued moving forward with their hands still connected. Under his breath, Sami uttered “so it really _is_ you”.

“T’ought you already ‘ad that figured out,” Finn chuckled dryly and Sami, unaware he spoke loud enough to be heard, stiffened at the response.

“How did you survive?” asked Sami, the words tumbling out faster than he could stop them; something pricked at the corners of his eyes, and as he wiped at them he told himself it was only due to the cold.

Finn stopped and cleared his throat. “I didn’t,” he responded quietly.

“But you’re right here! How?!”

“I was already dying when you met me; at least, that body was.” Running fingers through his hair, Finn’s shoulders were uncharacteristically hunched. “I prob’ly owe you an explanation.”

Sami barked out a laugh of disbelief. “ **You** owe me? Finn, you saved my life, I don’t…if anything, I owe you uh. Something. Anything!” His free arm flailed in exasperation.

“No, listen, alright?” Finn paused, and for the briefest moment, Sami could have sworn he felt shivering from the hand in his own. “Back when I fell ill, I was not spared much kindness from anyone. You, Sami, were the first person outside of my immediate family that had shown me any consideration whatsoever. I was already so near the end, and you offered comfort. Warmth.” He swallowed hard, then continued. “I’ve carried those memories with me when things got unbearable and when I’ve wanted to give up. Sometimes it was all I had, but it’s always been enough.”

From the canopy, snowflakes drifted down and gave every visible surface a light dusting. As Sami listened to the words spoken, he watched with minor fixation as the white stood stark against Finn’s dark hair and cloak. He had more questions than answers: _what_ exactly was Finn? And how could he possibly face himself now, when the incident that he only found selfish agony in was the way that the person who had made the sacrifice found strength? Tears welled up as Sami pushed all that aside and, with his free hand, reached out to touch Finn’s shoulder. When Finn didn’t react, Sami let the touch linger. He opened his mouth, and his voice broke as he started to say, “Finn, I’m so, so sorry that you-”

Before those words could be finished, searing pain tear tore through Sami and forced him to double over. He felt himself held up, barely hearing Finn’s voice over the ringing in his ears and only making out, “We have to go!” After allowing himself to be stood up, coherence gradually returned while they rushed ahead. “We’ve got to hurry,” Finn reiterated.

“It burns,” Sami groaned while clutching at his midsection.

“That’s the toxin,” explained Finn. “It won’t kill you, but it’s quite nasty and can cause lots’ve damage if left untreated. Just keep quiet for now and concentrate on moving forward.”

And Sami did as Finn instructed, moving together over uneven terrain and through the snow that had accumulated on the ground. His body fluctuated between extremes of warmth and chills while his hearing faded in and out. Several times in his disoriented state he’d ask for Loovah, and Finn reassured him over and over that he had the reins in his grasp.

It was as if an eternity passed by until they at last slowed down. The trees had thinned out around the area that they approached, and Sami could see an enormous cliff face before them. All around the air was thick and humid, and as moisture hit Sami’s skin he could not tell if it was due to the toxin or that the atmosphere had changed.

“Where are we?” asked Sami with surprising clarity; with each inhale, the intensity of the symptoms eased. He was set down on the ground and watched Finn attempt to tie Loovah to stump, only to eventually give up and wander back over when the reindeer was most uncooperative.

“A healing pool,” Finn finally answered.

“A what?” Sami responded incredulously. Surely, Finn could not be referencing folklore when Sami needed immediate medical aid.

“It’s a spring.” Now kneeling, Finn keenly looked Sami over. “Do you need any help with getting undressed?”

“Excuse me?!” squawked Sami, which startled Finn.

“You’ve got to let the water soak into your skin for it to work!” 

“I…” Sami trailed off for a moment, at a total loss for words; the earnestness on Finn’s face certainly did not suggest that he was anything less than sincere. Sighing at last, he said, “No, I can manage.”

Spinning around so that he faced away from Finn, Sami removed the mantle and disrobed. He peeked over his shoulder a few times: the first time catching an extremely bewildered expression aimed at him, and the second time finding that no attention was being paid at all. After the undergarment was taken off, Sami hurried over to the spring that pooled out of the mouth of a wide cave and submerged himself in the hot water.

The thick steam that wafted off of the surface of the water smelled and felt unlike any other Sami had ever experienced; he didn’t even have a way to describe it, other than ‘divine’. As he sunk in further, the water came up to his collarbone, and when it touched the open wounds it lightly tingled. Closing his eyes, Sami reveled in this wondrous luxury. He nearly dozed off, until loud splashing stirred him to full consciousness again.

The vague silhouette could hardly be made out, but Sami was able to see faint blue glow through the white plumes. When it drew closer, dark hair first stood out, and as the steam dissipated ever so slightly, Finn’s facial features and torso were revealed. Streams of water trickled down his body, shimmering and forming rivulets that traced the indents of lean muscles and causing his already supernal qualities to be amplified. 

Averting his vision, Sami wondered if the heat of the spring had elevated and if it was the reason behind his lightheadedness. 

“How’re we feeling?” asked Finn, sinking down nearby. Sami looked up, catching the briefest glimpse of him in a relaxed state; his eyes were closed with droplets clinging to long eyelashes and normally heavy brow so light, so unguarded. When his eyes opened again, the irises were illuminated and fixed directly on Sami.

Gulping, Sami stared down at the water and certainly did not think of this terrible proximity. He reached up and touched where a puncture wound had been, only to find it had shrunk considerably. Another was touched, then another, and those and each one after them were like the first. “They’re hardly there!” he exclaimed, launching himself forward in surprise. Instinctively he winced at sudden motion, until it quickly dawned on him that his shoulder did not ache at this burst of movement. Sami’s eyes went wide with realization as the weightless sensation of nothingness settled in, how for the first time that he could remember he was free of the pain.

“Sami?” Finn’s voice cut through, and Sami hadn’t any idea when he’d moved in front of him. “Sami?” Finn asked again, his expression so thoroughly concerned as he searched Sami’s face for what, Sami did not know. “Are you alright there? Y’look at though you’ve gone into shock...”

“I’m fine, actually!” Sami managed to choke out at last. As a test, the thrust his arm out and vigorously waved it, causing Finn to move back in surprise. “Finn, look at this!”

“I...see it?” Finn remarked, the concern now full-blown confusion.

“I couldn’t do this before! I-I…” Sami caught his breath. “Since the wagon, since the accident. Something happened to my shoulder, and they couldn’t fix it completely, and-”

“Sami,” Finn gently interrupted as he extended a hand and managed to place it on the animated arm. “This won’t be permanent. The pain won’t be as severe going forth, but in a few days’ time the discomfort will resurface.”

“Oh.” Dejectedly, Sami settled down and mulled over the prognosis. Then, with the slightest hint of hope, he perked up with, “You say that it won’t be as bad anymore?” 

“That’s right,” confirmed Finn. “These waters can’t fully heal a deep trauma like that, but they can ease it a wee bit. It’s better for fresher t’ings, and drawing out bad stuff like poison.”

“Oh. Well, I’m fine with that,” starting to laugh, Sami eased back, not bothered anymore with how close Finn remained. “Anything’s better than what I’ve been living with.”

Finn hummed in acknowledgement, returning at last to his previous tranquil state. The vapor the rose from the spring’s surface made it seem as though they were floating in a cloud; it only solidified Sami’s notions about Finn’s otherworldly, possibly heavenly, appearance. And although his heart clamored heavily, with the prospect of a new hope he’d never had before in multiple facets of his life, this minor unease now was not so insufferable.


	11. Chapter 11

Time slowly marched on as the pair soaked in the spring, and with each passing moment Sami swore that he felt his body mend itself, as though he’d been gifted new joints and ligaments after a lifetime of abuse. His eyelids steadily drooped, and he had nearly dozed off entirely on several occasions despite that they were balls deep in the forest. If they spent the rest of the day there, Sami would have been content, but he could hear the water stirring yet again and knew that the intent was depart soon.

“Sami,” Finn spoke up as if on cue, his tone cautious and causing Sami to look up without hesitation. They held one another’s gaze for a few tense moments; Sami sat in a quiet panic, while Finn had stood up and seemed to have no qualms whatsoever about being exposed to the elements. “We’ll need to be on our way.”

“Sure,” Sami nodded quickly, his mouth and body acting completely independently of his mind, much to his own chagrin. Once Finn’s attention was off of him and he started to turn around, Sami sunk almost entirely under the water. When he resurfaced, he could hear inquiries about whether he was alright or not and needed any help standing, to which Sami replied, “N-no. I’m fine. Just. Need a moment.” 

As Finn’s attention was elsewhere, Sami slipped out from the spring, ever so careful to keep his front half from view. He slunk over to where his clothing sat in a heap, wiping himself off with the mantle before dressing. By the time he realized that Finn’s clothing was in a pile near where his own once was, it was much too late. Finn’s bare form now loomed just in his peripheral, and Sami stood frozen in place with eyes fixed to the ground as he robed with no sense of urgency.

“So,” Finn breathed out as he adjusted the fur and feather trim of his collar. “We need t’talk about why you’re here.”

“I…” Chewing on his bottom lip, an instinctive sense of defiance washed over Sami. He shook his head to dispel such a childish notion, since really Finn could have left him dead on several different occasions. Piercing blue eyes bore into him, and he swallowed. “I’m on a mission. In and around the city, we’re on the verge of an outbreak of something really bad, potentially catastrophic. It’s a disease that when caught early enough, it’s so simple to treat, but we’re running out of the medicine that we use. The ingredient grows here -somewhere- and I’m going to find it.”

“Ah.” Nose wrinkled, Finn appeared to contemplate Sami’s explanation. “Suppose you don’t need t’hear how that’s utter madness.”

“No, I’m well aware. And since I’m already Haunted, I’m probably the best candidate to do this,” he laughed self-deprecatingly, but Finn didn’t look amused. “Anyway, I was entrusted with a sample of the mushroom for Loovah to try and track it down. We’ll figure it out from there.”

“Well, before you run off on this suicide mission, would y’maybe like t’see if Adrian’s got that ingredient back the hut?”

Sami blinked slowly, astonished at his own shortsightedness. “Do you think it could really be there?”

“What’s the ‘arm in checking?” Finn shrugged.

“Alright.” Sami repeated that several times over, until the idea finally felt tangible. “Yeah, let’s try that first.”

Supplies were yet again gathered, and Sami mounted Loovah. Wordlessly, Finn gestured for them to follow. An invitation was extended that they ride together, but it was declined. 

“I prefer to be on the ground,” Finn admitted, warily glancing backwards. Although he wanted to suggest they walk together, Sami kept his mouth shut. At the very least, the pace they moved was not so quick that they couldn’t hold a conversation.

“Can I ask you something?” Sami inquired after a long stretch of time, then quickly added, “It’s not about the forest.”

“Sure.” Finn’s voice was much lighter than usual, the lilt making Sami’s skin tingle. 

“Why do you wear those antlers on your head? Is it like a crown? Are you some kind of monarch?” Not in a million years could Sami have anticipated the giggle that came from Finn as a response.

“No!” Finn exclaimed, clearly amused. He reached up and grazed one of the prongs as he continued. “I inherited these from a previous Guardian.”

“Oh.” Sami replied so casually, as though such a thing was so obvious; internally, he’d been cringing and had slapped himself upside the head with the force and violence of a typhoon. Of course, he had questions about what exactly a _Guardian_ was, but he could only assume that digging deeper for specifics would mean overstepping boundaries. Instead, he asked, “Is it difficult?”

“What? Being a Guardian?” Finn looked back again, and Sami gulped.

“Yeah.”

“I can’t really say.” Scratching his nose, Finn looked deep in thought. “It’s been my life for so long I’ve got nothing to compare it? Tough t’get a night’s sleep, though, I can say that much.”

The casualness that Finn spoke about his life caught Sami off guard. Not too many details were offered up, but a few observations and complaints were mentioned off-handedly. As Sami intently listened to every word, for the first time he noticed something else in this forest: birdsong. There was undoubtedly a sensation of security that radiated from Finn’s presence which stretched far outwards and affected everything around them. 

Eventually, Finn quieted down, and remained that way for several paces. “Sorry ‘bout going off like that. It’s not often that I have someone around to talk to.”

“I don’t mind!” Sami blurted out. “You talk about interesting things!”

“Thank you?” Finn giggled again, this time sounding nervous. 

“Yeah! I...I could listen to you all day.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Sami’s face burned, and he resisted the strong urge to hide it in his hands. “It’s just...I don’t have a lot of people to talk to, either. This,” he gestured to around them. “This is nice.”

Finn replied with a hum, which Sami hoped was positive. 

They marched onward mostly in silence which was neither comfortable nor uncomfortable; they simply existed. Occasionally, Finn would make them stop the trek and he’d crane his neck in several directions before resuming, but Sami never questioned it. When Sami asked about a particularly lovely warbling sounded out from the treetops, Finn was charitable with supplying answers. 

Sami, too distracted by the environment, hadn’t paid any mind to how much ground they had covered. Everything around them shimmered in a way that Sami had never seen until now, and it was beautiful; the dirt and flora and stones all had the same faint glow that Finn also sometimes had, and he wondered just how entwined it all was. When the silhouette of the hut at last came into view, it felt as though a sunbeam pierced Sami’s chest and warmth flooded his solar plexus.

Realization dawned that Loovah would not be able to fit inside of the hut and track the ingredient, so Finn offered to give it a try in the reindeer’s stead. Sami spread out his possessions on the table top, and with the utmost caution handed the vial over to Finn. 

“It’s amazing that you can do that,” Sami commented while Finn sniffed at the contents and then at the air. Nose wrinkled and vial handed back to Sami, he crouched low and started to what appeared to be an investigation.

“S’all in the blood,” Finn absently replied, his focus strictly on the task at hand. Dried herbs were inhaled then passed over, and he practically dove into a large cupboard. Hundreds of jars in various shapes and sizes -more than Sami had ever seen at Alfir- that sat on the shelves were examined, but none seemed to be what Finn’s busy nose sought out. Another cabinet was opened and the process begun anew, and again nothing was found. There was a third cabinet, which was eyed but not touched. “We can’t open that until dark,” Finn gruffly stated, then returned to his work.

“Alright,” Sami agreed, assuming that whatever was in there was light sensitive; before he could even confirm this, Finn had scurried up to the loft. As this went on, leather bound tomes that lined shelves and sat in large stacks were glanced over, their worn spines lightly traced with fingertips. Though it could not be possible, Sami could have sworn that those books pulsed with life of their own. His hand landed on one, and he recognized the characters on it: the journal. As far as Sami knew, Adrian was not here to interrupt, but before curiosity could take over, Finn was back downstairs.

“We’ll wait until dark,” Finn huffed.

“No luck?” Asked Sami.

“Afraid not.” Shaking his head as he looked around, Finn was deep in thought. “You haven’t any other information? No books or-”

“Not much,” Sami interjected. “It was found preserved out in Lilroga. I have pages from the journal of the last person that sought it out, but they’re borderline incomprehensible. Do you want a look?”

“Sure, but I won’t be able to read them.” Finn held out a hand expectantly while Sami fished through his supplies. “Adrian never taught me how.”

“Speaking of which, where is he?” Sami undid the parcel he’d been carrying and presented the folded up pages. 

“Not sure, but he’d be a lotta help right about now,” Finn muttered as he looked over the faded pieces of parchment. One page in particular captured is attention, and Sami could only blink in confusion as Finn sniffed at it, then proceeded to bring it to his mouth.

“What are you doing?” It was a challenge to keep his voice level, but Sami managed to not sound too panicked.

“I know where this one was written,” Finn said matter-of-factly as he lowered the page. “The rest are far more vague, which is...troublesome.” 

“What do you mean?”

“Some parts of the forest smell or taste different than other parts, but regardless they all still have a distinct sense to them. When that’s absent…” Finn pursed his lips after trailing off, his chin in his hands. “It’s probably not a good thing.”

“Oh.” Sami was completely lost, but could already guess that there probably wouldn’t be any further elaboration. “Well, if that’s the case, I guess I’ll try to have Loovah track down where Mick wrote that page.”

“I could also lead you there.” Finn folded and returned the parchment to Sami. 

“I couldn’t possibly impose upon you like that!”

“A _handled_ deer couldn’t possibly determine the subtleties that are necessary to navigate. This sort of tracking’s far more complicated than finding some plant, Sami.” And for as much as Sami wanted to argue on behalf of Loovah’s honor, he did not want to be left in these woods without Finn by his side to assist him.

“But I thought that you couldn’t watch over me,” Sami tested.

“I won’t. Y’said yourself that you’re far more resilient than anyone gives you credit for.” Finn had already turned away before Sami could determine whether or not he was being teased.

“Right. Well, I...I won’t get in your way,” Sami trembled out in some attempt at assurance, but Finn’s attention was still elsewhere. Instead of repeating himself, he took a seat by the hearth and poked at the glowing embers; perhaps Adrian had been here earlier in the day, and that was why there was a fire. Something potent wafted from the cauldron that bore no resemblance to stew, and the combination of herbs, flowers, and spices was so heavy that it caused him to cough.

“Don’t mess with that. Adrian will be mad,” Finn warned, now also taking a seat by the hearth. In his hands was half of a loaf of bread, which he passed over to Sami. “T’ought you might be hungry.”

“Ravenous, actually.” The words were hardly out of Sami’s mouth before he took a bite. Something savory dribbled from its center, which he recognized as some sort of meat. “Oh no.”

“Something the matter?”

“I can’t eat this.” The loaf was thrust back towards Finn, his eyebrows knit with concern. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I just...I can’t.”

“Is it bad?” Finn inspected it. “Doesn’t seem it.”

“I can’t eat meat,” Sami began to explain, already flushed from embarrassment over the scene he was causing and how rude he was being by rejecting his host. He blubbered out a string of apologies and stared down at his wrung hands, all the while chastising himself for being so stubborn and not taking what he was being offered. Much to his surprise, when he finally looked back up, Finn looked equally mortified. “I’m sorry,” Sami repeated.

“No, I’m sorry!” Finn blurted out. “I didn’t know. I fed you rabbit after you’d nearly drowned, but I didn’t know!” 

Sami blinked, now taken aback. “Oh, uh. That’s alright. No, you’re fine, it’s fine if I’m-” he ran his hands down his face for even bringing this up. “If it’s to save a life due to something that could be fatal, it’s perfectly alright. I just can’t have it regularly as food. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have made such a big deal.”

“There’s other food here.” Finn had already gotten up in the span of time it took Sami to explain. He brought back fruits and potatoes, as well as candied chestnuts that looked suspiciously like the ones Sami had possessed earlier. As everything was practically dropped into his lap, Sami laughed despite himself.

“I don’t need this much, really! But thank you,” he grinned. A chestnut was picked up between thumb and forefinger and closely examined. “Y’know, if I wasn’t any the wiser, I’d say that you’ve got a sweet tooth.”

As Sami spoke, the loaf he’d returned was feverishly consumed by Finn. He paused between bites and wiped his mouth off on his sleeve. “Not really,” he said before finishing the remainder. 

“So why’d you take them from my bag?” There was a distant look on Finn’s face after Sami had asked that.

“I…” Finn looked as though he was struggling to find words. “They remind me of home.”

“Oh.” Sami bit the inside of his cheek. 

“I don’t remember a whole lot from it,” Finn continued, glaring down at his hands as if they were the unspoken offending factor. “Lot’sa things went when I...turned.”

“But you remember me,” Sami said, aware too late that it was a terribly selfish thing to say.

“Aye. Not sure why that is, if I’m bein’ honest. You were the last t’ing I saw, so I think my mind held onto it as tight as it could.” 

Instead of pushing the conversation further, Sami stayed silent and waited for Finn to elaborate further, if he chose to. When nothing more was said, he went about eating the food he’d been given; if Finn was upset, he gave no indication whatsoever, and Sami could only assume that this topic was one that had already been mulled over many times over before now.

Shadows cast by the furniture began to stretch across the floor, and Finn’s attention was fixed to a window pane. Once the beams of sunlight grew weaker, now barely existent, he stood and moved to the cabinet. A handle was grabbed and tugged on, but it did not budge. “Of course,” grumbled Finn. He stuck his face near the doors, his nose wrinkling like a rabbit’s, but eventually he stopped and sighed heavily.

“Can’t get it,” he announced, and Sami solemnly nodded.

“Do you think he’ll be back soon?” asked Sami.

“No idea. It’s best not to rely on ‘im with time sensitive issues.”

“Well-” Sami meant to offer some sort of reassurance, but instead yawned loudly.

“Might not be a bad idea to get a bit of rest before we set off,” Finn offered, returning to the hearth.

“Right.” Nodding, Sami glanced around and noticed the single bed, which Finn had already sat down on and had started to undress. He was quick to turn his attention to his mantel, which he folded up and set down on the floor to use as a makeshift pillow.

“Sami, what are you doing?” asked Finn.

“Getting ready to sleep?” Sami replied as he stretched.

“Why don’t you sleep in th’ bed? Much more comfortable.”

“But-” Sami looked over, swallowing hard. “You’re already in it, and this is your home. I couldn’t possibly intrude like that, you’ve already helped so much.”

“It’s Adrian’s home,” Finn stated matter-of-factly. “And it’s large enough for two. C’mon over.”

Mouth dry and going against his better judgement, Sami eventually accepted the invitation and crawled under the covers.


End file.
